On the Turning Away
by hippiechick2112
Summary: Slowly and with continuing help, Logan begins to understand the new future he came into after his dramatic entrance in 1973 changed events. Although his life had turned around for the better, he has yet to see that darkness still lingers and comes at a high price...and that even he cannot always stop it. Story five of the series "Unspoken".
1. All That Matters

**On the Turning Away**

 **Note and Disclaimer: I obviously don't own anything, like characters and plots, from _X-Men_ , but the extra characters not in the original series are obviously mine. This is now the fifth story (and most likely final) of the series, "Unspoken", which will take place after _Days of Future Past_ in trying to have Logan remember everything from the past in the new timeline. This is a direct sequel to _Remember Me, Remember Us_ as well. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _It's a sin that somehow,  
Light is changing to shadow  
And casting its shroud  
Over all we have known.  
Unaware how the ranks have grown,  
Driven on by a heart of stone,  
We could find that we're all alone  
In the dream of the proud._

 _On the wings of the night,  
As the daytime is stirring,  
Where the speechless unite  
In a silent accord…  
Using words you will find are strange,  
And mesmerized as they light the flame.  
Feel the new wind of change,  
On the wings of the night…_

 **May 25, 2023**

It had been a dark and stormy day, something that was dragging over from the previous days and one that was not letting up either. Glancing out the window, one could still see power lines downed and trees in pieces, leaves and wires shattered like loose papers in the wind. On the inside, it was more chaotic. Children had finally gathered back in their darkened corners or had grabbed the legs of the adults passing by and carrying old-fashioned wax candles, all of them wishing that the storm would finally end and lives would be back to normal. The lights seemed to have carried a certain amount of stability, a taper through the hollering winds rattling the old windows.

For the past few days, ever since this had started, there had been a certain sort of nervous atmosphere in the air. It had been enough that it seemed like a haunted house and that power seemed to be flaring all at once because of how scared some of the children were and because of their bickering. That alone gave Danielle a major headache. As she strolled through the groups that littered the hallways, foyer and living room, she rubbed her forehead in dismay. She could feel everything, more so than ever before, and this awareness was alarming. Ever since she had been attempting to show Logan their mutual past and the horrible events that led them to their happiness, strange things had been happening, not just to her, but to Jay as well. It was not just that she was tired and feeling the effects of her efforts. No, it had been more than that, a tug towards a cold future that she had not felt in some years.

Danielle did her circuit around the usual hiding places, coaxing smaller children out from under the furniture and getting the older ones to stop taking advantage of their fears. Feeling somewhat satisfied with her duties (and also feeling that she was stepping on others' feet as they did the same thing), she left, passing a few teachers as she did. As she proceeded upstairs though, Jean stopped her. Glancing left and right to ensure privacy, Jean pushed her friends up the remaining stairs left to them and settled in a random doorway, away from anyone's hearing.

"You're not doing well." It was an accusation, a sharp one too, even from Jean.

"No," Danielle admitted openly. "I'm not doing well. What did you expect?"

"That you'd lay off for a while."

"Not now. It's been a day since I've stopped the marathon, Jean. I've reached a good stopping point, but not where the story should end."

"Oh?"

Danielle appeared embarrassed, not wanting to recall the events again. "My first marriage and this country in shambles because of it."

Jean nodded in understand. "It would be a good place to stop for some weeks, I would think."

"Would you think it would also be a good time to see if the town has a public phone open?" Danielle desperately wanted to change the subject. "Maybe a municipal office has something I can use? I can't go without hearing from my children."

Jean noticed the turnaround and decided to do nothing about it. "We can attempt it. However, I think it's extremely foolish and would bring more trouble than it's worth."

"But I need to contact Devon, Michael and Riley," Danielle confessed, envying Jean that she had her children home with her. She also was trying to still her aching head. "They wouldn't be able to call or come in and out. I'm sure the roads are still closed."

"They are," Jean allowed. "They might need to wait until Salem Center opened them up again. Don't worry about them, Danielle. They're all adults and can take care of themselves. They've proven it before."

It was natural that Danielle was so worried about those three. Michael and Riley had spent their early lives in their father's hands and had never lived it down until long after he was dead and buried. Devon had been supposedly rescued by the wrong people when he was an orphan and homeless and tortured until he escaped. He soon found Danielle, just as lonely as she was, and immediately trusted her open arms. Ever since then, she had been so protective of the three, more so than the other two children, and had always tried keeping in contact with them as much as possible. Danielle had been lax about it in recent years, ever since Riley started college, but her anxiety never ceased.

"I'm sure." Danielle seemed distant. "So, what now? We wait this out?"

"It's perhaps the most rational suggestion you've had in some time," Jean replied. "Come on. Let's rejoin the others."

Danielle nodded in agreement, following Jean back downstairs and tripping over the same things and children and yelling at them about the same things. In the meantime though, Danielle was stopped by Logan. Although she saw Celeste behind him and Daken with his friends in another corner, some thought pushed into her mind unbidden, thinking of all sorts of scenarios those two could have gotten into without her supervision. She gulped down the lump in her throat though, smiling at Logan.

"You hear from the kids?" Even Logan sounded nervous.

"No," Danielle admitted. "I thought of perhaps running out, but I think Jean persuaded me otherwise."

Logan grinned as Celeste rolled her eyes and walked away. "I think there might be another way."

"Don't you always have a plan?" Danielle quickly glanced at Daken and Celeste evenly before turning back to Logan. "What is it?"

"Well, someone's older brother seems to still have a motorcycle that needs borrowing. Apparently, he has not been using it as often as he lets on."

"Stealing Jay's bike, you mean?"

Logan shrugged his shoulders. "Same thing."

"Don't you ever change?" Danielle sighed. "Roads are closed though. How are we getting out?"

"When there's a will –" Logan began.

"There's always a way," Danielle finished. "Ok, ok, I get it. Lead the way once you tell me how the children are being watched."

"Blackmailing the Fuzzball," Logan only answered, an air of mystery around him. "Now, come on."

Danielle did not bother replying and did not want to know how Logan achieved it. Instead, she allowed herself to be snuck out of the mansion, down the secret doorway into the garage. They soon found Jay's motorcycle, keys in Logan's hands. She climbed on behind Logan, taking the only helmet, and soon felt wind as he started it up and they fled, dodging debris down the driveway. The gates opened before them and the paved pathways leading away from the school appeared as if an obstacle course. Logan dodged each one, zigzagging all the way as Danielle held onto tightly (and wishing for some safety), and was soon parking near the police station. There had been people there already, many of them requesting certain things, but that did not deter the couple. They slipped through a side down Logan remembered and were soon down a hallway that led to an information desk. After bargaining with the woman behind it and threatening all sorts of things, Logan managed to have five minutes on a phone line. Using himself as a shield, he handed it to Danielle, watching as she dialed the familiar numbers. First, it was Devon, who did not answer and was left a tense message, begging for a word and to be careful. Next was Michael, who hardly heard them over the static and managed to understand not to come and to pass that to Riley. By then, the line was dead.

Danielle handed the phone back to the woman at the desk and felt defeated, sighing again as she and Logan left the same way they came in. Within ten minutes, they were back at the school before anyone noticed them gone, although she was sure that Jean, the Professor and even Jay at least knew their whereabouts. Jean gave Danielle a dirty glare too before returning back to her board game with Scott, Rogue, Bobby and some other children. Jay only winked, as if in a conspiracy and holding back its secrets, and went to follow his wife upstairs, papers in Fiona's tiny arms. Xavier was busily making his own rounds, Hank next to him and appearing very nervous, especially when he saw Logan. Danielle somehow did not want to know still. She only waved at Hank and Xavier, figuring out a way to get through this mess and find Daken and Celeste before they got into any more trouble.

It also left the two alone within the sea of bodies that continued to crowd and it felt stifling. Rubbing her forehead once more and seeing that her youngest children were safe (Daken at another board game and Celeste gossiping), Danielle tugged on Logan's shirt, motioning him to follow him too, and they left together, stopping in their room upstairs. Danielle lit a few candles with matches to give the room some illumination and laid on the bed, her arms stretched out to the other side.

Logan sat on the edge of the bed. "You're sick." The statement was plain and seemed to hit Danielle harder than she even expected.

"Huh?" She sat up. "What do you mean?"

Logan did not answer. This made Danielle a little frightened. He knew something was up. Granted, Logan always had a way of figuring things out. She did not know it would be this quick, although the frantic way in which she scrambled to make him understand the world they now lived in – the memories he seemed to have never known overnight – made her think that she was a little too obvious. Yes, she had been depressed too, reliving all of those years again and trying her hardest to live them down and coexist in harmony. However, it was never this intense before. She was cold, unwilling to feel the life she had been taught to embrace, and that was troubling too. She was sure that Jay was feeling the same way, providing all that he did, and that it would affect him the same way.

"Are you sure you want to continue?" Logan asked, uncertain of the response himself. "Are you ok?"

"What? I am fine. And of course I do. I think you deserve to know the truth." Danielle smiled, trying her hardest still to keep the headache away. "Not right now though. The last round made me an insomniac, I swear."

The last statement was supposed to be funny and it came out that way, causing the two to snicker in a moment of intimacy. However, the underlining tone had been serious. Danielle had not been sleeping for the past few days, less and less since that Friday before, which made the pull worse. Last night, which she spent talking to Jay until a grey dawn broke and Logan had been left to dream, she had been seeking it, hoping that she could escape the waking nightmare. However, every time she closed her eyes nowadays, two red ones, mirroring hers, would appear within the blackness…and it all had started on the day she decided to gather together all of those memories, spending all of her time and energy trying to piece together a life for a man who did not remember anything past 1973. While thankful to whoever it was up there that she did not have to rummage through anything before that dreaded year, Danielle would never admit that she was seeing a dead version of herself in her sleep. Not now, not _ever_.

"We have all the time in the world to finish this up," Danielle continued, accepting the embrace that Logan had to offer. "What matters to me now is that you understand and you remember everything. Even if it doesn't come back to you and that your other world is all you have and the only memories that you have, at least know that you were in the here and now. That matters to me, whoever you happen to be."

"Even if you don't seem the same to me?" Logan saw many similarities, but the same exact woman could never be.

"That's up to you." Danielle broke away. "I would love to stay married to you, even if you just are the father of our children. To me though, you would always be the same person and that's what matters. You've proven that you still are."

Logan smiled and kissed Danielle tenderly, holding her again. Yes, he mused, _this_ was all that mattered to him too.

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 **Yeah, everyone, I am back with the new story! Promised it would be up somehow. :D Anyway, I hope that everyone is having a great holiday so far. I might not post tomorrow, but soon. And before I forget, the inspiration of this story comes from the lyrics, which are Pink Floyd's "On the Turning Away".**


	2. Squeezing out Some Information

By Monday, the power was still off and there was nothing much that could be done about it. The storms that ran through the county had destroyed most of the towns and had left New York and most of New England in shambles. While emergency crews worked day and night to restore order and power, the beginning of the school week still had the children bored and at each other's throats. Attempting classes had been a failure, since most of the material had been electronic (with many older teacher damning it), and allowing them to simply roam and released their energy had been best. After noon, Xavier called it all off and decided to continue the way they had been since the Wednesday before.

Danielle felt relief at the announcement. Indeed, she did not want to deal with thousands of eyes on her every class, all of them expecting more than the usual lectures. While playing music on a device or even talking out of the book had been out of the question, she opted into allowing her students more time in practicing for band for the next school year, something that Xavier and Hank both finally consented to after years of begging. About nine tenths of her classes would be there next year anyway and were more than willing to play and even do the additional choir. In the meantime, she corrected her tests before everything ran out of battery power and checked in on Logan occasionally, trying to be as normal as possible as she left once every two classes. She went walking to get a cup of water from a fountain the last time she checked and found herself down the hall and gazing at the man who was teaching history the way he remembered it.

To be honest, Logan himself left a little lost with the lack of electricity too. While having no material to work with, Danielle heard him asking random questions and then allowing his students, split into teams, to answer in a sort of game show way. There was a lot of yelling and laughter, something that calmed her before returning to her own class. In a way, it passed their time and made Logan appear less and less awkward. When she returned to her sanctuary though, there was a note from Hank in her dying mobile device, stating that noontime would be lunchtime and the rest of the day was to be free for everyone. Until such a time that the power is back on, Hank added, classes would not be continuing.

It would be the same as it was before, Danielle reflected. She looked back to her teenagers before her playing instruments, all of them commenting on the others' performances and some searching for her approval also. Danielle smiled, saying little things here and there and genuinely feeling surprised by her students' improvement over the time spent with her. This last class, released for lunch, left her empty inside, mostly with nothing to do. She aimlessly walked down to the cafeteria, stopped only by Ororo to hear her complaints about how Celeste wasn't paying attention in class again and that she talked nonstop to her neighbors. Grinding her teeth in annoyance when Ororo announced that she was moving Celeste to the front of the classroom, Danielle vowed to Ororo that it will be handled and that Logan will be not playing the good parent this time around. Going around her white-haired friend, she picked up a tray and proceeded to fill it, soon finding herself at a table with Jay, Logan and Roger. The three had been glaring the other with dismay, something that amused Danielle, and they did not bother to speak. Danielle figured that Jay was still irritated by Logan's presence, Roger did something and the other two did not like it or however it always went. Those three always had a silly reason why they hated each other.

Danielle had not seen Roger in a while and gave him a warm smile. "How goes it, Roger?" she asked, trying to break the ice.

"Huh?" The master spy peered up from his tray. "Oh, good. Sore today."

"Aww, did your students beat you up today?" Danielle was trying to be light and jovial, thinking it funny that the old man (who was seventy-seven and still in good shape) was finally feeling his age.

"Of course," Roger replied in the same tone. "I was with Mae for the rest of the morning. Cancelled the last class and let them run free before lunch. She was telling me that I needed to quit. Got angry with me for almost breaking my hand again."

"Really?" Danielle wasn't surprised and pretended to act it, hoping to squeeze a little more information from Roger concerning himself and the other two.

"Yeah, I guess I am getting too old for this." Roger rubbed the back of his head. "I might need to step back and just demonstrate and not playing the opponent. I am close to my eighties and so is Mae. We're still in great health and sound in body and mind and we both can't complain. However, we can't be running around like this forever. Bad enough we keep Gil away and tell him to tend to his own marriage."

"Nobody can go on like you are," Jay finally chimed in, slurping on some noodles.

"Considering how old you are, you shouldn't be talking either," Roger retorted.

"We're all getting too old," Danielle interrupted, before an argument broke out. Although glad that Logan kept his peace (for now), she did not want to hear the drama from him too. "We just need to do the best we can. We've been through worse before. I think we can continue on without the common cause, although sometimes, I wish some days that it was back and you all did not bicker."

"Oh, we fought, all right," Roger admitted with some bravado. "It happens when we're in close quarters."

"As we are now, especially with the power out," Danielle pointed out. "Deal with it."

Disgusted, Danielle left the table, leaving the three men behind. She did not even clean up her tray, thinking that perhaps one of them would take it and eat the cold leftovers she did not want anymore. She exited the cafeteria, passing Alex and Hank on the way out, and soon was in her bedroom, although she hardly remembered the walk upstairs. The door was closed and she was soon laying on her side of the bed. She rolled over to her left side, allowing her eyes to relax and close. She hugged her pillow tightly, wishing it was one of her children instead (and especially when they were toddlers), and listened for the familiar footsteps that came to the bedroom, shutting the world behind, and lying next to her. Logan took Danielle into his arms, holding her so tightly that she thought that he was not realizing what he was doing (she was even feeling the adamantium beneath his clothes). Soon, the grip released and two stayed in their positions, unable to speak.

Finally, Danielle found words and it wasn't about them either. "Storm is complaining about Celeste again."

"What now?" Logan sound out the hard way how social Celeste was and was finding it hard to discipline her, especially since she loved to get on his good side. He sighed.

"Talking in class and not paying attention."

"What's Storm's plan?"

"Trying to get her up front and away from her friends, I would assume, since she mentioned it. Celeste will blame me for it. Anything I do or don't do is my fault anyway."

"You try your best."

"And that's never good enough. The boys were easy, even Daken. Celeste has got to be the most difficult child I think we've had."

"She's also unique like you. Give her a break."

"I'm trying, Logan! She just won't give me a chance."

Logan did not know what else to say. He felt stuck between the two, just as he had been before, and had to play mediator more than ever before. He tried seeing it through Xavier's eyes and found that he had no wise words to add. There wasn't much the two of them could do except tolerate each other's presence and grow up. In Celeste's case, he hoped it would be sooner rather than later. With Danielle...well, their sons adored her (as far as Logan knew), even Daken, and would do anything to make her comfortable and happy, although rebellion always seemed to be in their nature. Celeste was totally different, the only girl out of five children and the youngest too. She felt the world owned her a lot, that everything was unfair and everyone oppressing her except for Logan. Logan did not know yet which sibling she got along with (in another time, he recalled Riley being her favorite when they were together) and would soon find out. Then, he planned on playing them all against each other and watching the show, all to make Danielle smile.

"Patience?" Logan suggested, something that caused Danielle to look at him with dismay. It was something he never had and wasn't a good proposition.

"Is that all?" Danielle did not seem pleased with the answer.

"Hey, seems like you gave your mother the same treatment," Logan added, something that earned him a dirty look.

"I wasn't _that_ disrespectful," Danielle protested, not wanting to admit much. "I am also not the same as my mother."

"Uh-huh." Logan was not convinced. "We'll see."

The silence again hung over them once more. Danielle sighed too, rolling over to her right side just as Logan curled up closed and cuddled, burying his face into her reddish-white hair. There was more white streaks in there, he noticed, something that he was sure Danielle did not care about and would maybe dye if she had the chance. In another time and place, he recalled that the red hair was almost gone and that she did not care since it was no longer a priority. On that fateful day at the Chinese monastery, as she held the children close to her when he volunteered for the assignment to go back in time to 1973, her hair was more like Ororo's than her own from years before, only thin red lines showing that the nearly forty-four year old used to be young and carefree. Now, there seemed to be some spirit of the Danielle he used to know, but she was still the same person mostly and the one person he cared to love alone.

"So, what was the fight about?" Danielle was curious and just had to know.

"Jay making comments to Roger," Logan replied, not feeling the need to lie (he could keep the part about him joining Jay a secret though). "He finished his classes early, found his way downstairs and found Roger on the floor. He wasn't hurt, Danielle. He wasn't able to get back up."

"So, our favorite spy is feeling his age." Danielle pondered this for a moment. "Think about we tell –"

"No one at the moment," Logan interjected. "Let Roger figure it out for himself. Best way for him to realize that he needs to retire is when he really is down."

Danielle nodded. "Fine. Mum's the word. Can't promise is anyone else finds out."

"For now," Logan cautioned. "I believe that Roger will stop working when he's ready."

"Yeah, when he's dead."

"Shh! He's not supposed to know that."

Danielle giggled. "Of course. I know nothing."

Logan then got up, heading to the door. He opened it, glanced left and then right, and closed it again. He came back to Danielle, sitting by her feet. She sat up as well, not bothering to read him. There seemed to be no point, she mused. It was easier to just listen these days and not use her powers.

"Short story, to keep us entertained?" Logan inquired.

Danielle had think about it for a minute. "I'll talk mostly. I won't be showing anything. There just seems to be no time to sit these days."

"Oh, I think there's more time than you really think." Logan took Danielle's hands into his, waiting for the story to begin again. "You just need to make it."

* * *

 **Although pretty early in the story (and I was hoping to save it for later), it's time for another reminder from your favorite author who seems to get irritated very easily. Now, like everyone else, I appreciate your traffic and reviews. Really, I do. However, what I sometimes dislike is nitpicking about grammar. I am pretty careful about what I write, although I try my hardest not to use the same words often, misspell, put the annoying version of a phrase or even make the paragraphs so dense. Everyone makes mistakes in their stories and I am no exception. I will admit that I've found mistakes in my writing.**

 **However, this is the way I write and that is that. You don't like it? Read another story. That's it.** **Everyone has better things to do in their life than listen to how this and that deters one from reading a story. I am a lengthy writer. There are people on this site that are worse. Expand your mind. This is what this site is about.**

 **This is the end of the public service announcement. The next chapter will be available shortly. Thank you for your continuing support and I hope that you all had a great holiday season!**


	3. Far Away in the Distant Tower

**August 14, 1998**

"Push, Mrs. Ellis! Push! The baby is crowning!"

Danielle could do nothing more than grunt and try to do her best to expel a baby from her body, ill-equipped that she was for the job. She did not want to give her nurses the satisfaction of screaming since that was not doing her any good, much as they anticipated telling her husband all sorts of things about her ever since her water broke the night before. The pain was controllable, as she saw it, and she had many distractions, all of being her journey from Salem Center to Washington, DC (or, as she saw it, a supposed rags to riches sob tale). What happened in the year since her marriage started was also another story and one that was easier to comprehend than being nineteen and having a child for the first time. Hell, it ran in her family, her mother being twenty when Jay was born and Fiona being twenty-one. It did not give Danielle any excuses though.

Perhaps she can start from the beginning, Danielle supposed, but that was only something that horrified her worse than the nine-month pregnancy and the birth that came with it. She could tell many things and keep them as disorganized as the events were, like how a civil war had erupted in the country or that thousands of people are now protesting their treatment, whether they were mutants or not, or even how her husband was the most hated person the world. Other world powers had turned against them and they felt alone, stranded like an island with its people against each other. Border patrols had killed even more, people fleeing from the suffering and woe of those who decided to brave the fence and walls and helped those in need. The power of words and actions – from rallies to rumors – had made everyone restless, angry and confused. It was not a place united by the melting pot they were supposed to be. It was one of chaos.

She was protected from this though, high in a castle-like mansion where nobody was spared the days-long checks into their background nor the interrogations in special rooms where confessions were falsely made and people of all backgrounds tortured. Leon Ellis did not take lightly to anyone coming in at any time, even the messengers who came daily with reports, pleas and orders. Even military advisers and his only cousin, who had been with the leader since the beginning, were not exempt and were drilled constantly concerning activities and thoughts. Leon Ellis did not trust anyone anymore when he finally became dictator. The only person he turned to was Danielle and even then, she recognized the love/hate relationship in his eyes, especially when he ordered her to stick to her room for days on end, only coming out for meals. He would visit her nightly in the meantime, but then not show his appreciation for her attentiveness. He pushed her away, kissed her with no feeling and even slept exactly twelve inches from her body, a long distance in their king-sized bed.

Danielle tried hard to love the man who forced her to marry him and ruled the land she lived in. From the beginning, she embraced the fact that she was imperfect in his belief and that she had to try as hard as she could to be made in Leon's image. She attempted in every way to please him, not using her new influence to even ask about favors, and even kept herself out of sight (as he ordered) and tried her hardest to learn womanly art. She nodded in agreement, did everything herself (even if there were servants, supervised by Mary), and was frugal. She used her old clothes from home, hoping that it was enough for each event, and even took suggestions from her husband on dress and decor when he did not like it. She was a China doll, she knew, and one that was always on display. She had to look the part of a dictator's wife and placate him when he did not have to worry about the cares of state.

Everyday though, as she sat near her window with so little to do when Leon did not need her (being pregnant for the first year of their marriage and all), she saw the war waging beneath her high tower. Danielle could see pretty far ahead and none of what she viewed was pretty. Although national monuments stood guarded well, even if protesters threw eggs or spray painted every once in a while, the battles were waged far, far away, where housing complexes once stood and municipals used to have services for the people. Instead, there is only the military engaging the people, civilian officers taking care of the undesired population and the new secret police, headed by Peter Ellis, who told Leon everything everyone did, even thoughts, although how they knew that was beyond Danielle's comprehension. She knew few of that ability, herself included, and they did not belong in the new world order.

That was not to be her worry. Leon assured her of that. No, it was the human son that he craved, the one he constantly was reassured by all of the doctors would appear and without any mutant powers. Everyday, ever since Danielle knew of the dreaded coming of her baby (something she wished did not have to happen so soon), Leon had been with her for an hour a day as their attendants stood nearby and pretending not to listen, petting her red hair and then her enlarging belly, telling her that their son would be great and that they started a new dynasty. It was a prodigious expectation Danielle did not expect and one she felt she had to live up to, even if he knew that it was impossible. Her pretty little head did not have to seek out the disaster that was coming, although death always called to her, especially underneath that window. All she had to do was be a mother and appear beautiful to Leon in every way.

Soon, as first summer of her marriage started, there was a nationwide food shortage across the country (something Danielle contributed to a certain master spy that only expanded from Salem Center). Although farming was prominent in some areas still, protestors and rioters had scorched the earth in the year since their start, raided homes and trucks and even bellied out words that begged for importing food. With so many countries against them, it was impossible to bring in the food. With the gap between rich and poor so large, it was not wonderful to be sporting your status, especially when, with so much anger in the people because of Leon Ellis, people had been killed for the clothes on their back.

All the while, when she had nothing to do (and did not hear of their problems), Leon was not playing the worried husband and her servants worked around her as she lazed in her room, Danielle thought of Logan. He was constantly in her thoughts and she always wished that he was with her, especially now. Ever since her recovery, the marriage and even adjusting to her new life, especially being a new mother, she could not stop imagining the dark-haired Logan, even in her dreams. She was careful to never mention his name to anyone though, sure that she was always being watched. However, she knew that he was still locked away in Salem Center, imprisoned with Hank and Xavier, and that their freedom was slowly being taken away and with scant worry about them. After all, her husband and his cousin hardly wanted to pay attention to three so-called criminals that were contained in their home anyway. It was easier to get reports of them and discard it.

As far as Danielle knew, Logan was alive and pretty much grounded, living an aimless life with the Professor and Hank and none of the children as their students. That much Danielle was certain of and one that she wished would have never happened. That last night together played out in her mind, a dream that she wanted to relive over and over again. His touch, his scent, his eyes...she loved him too much to let go and to release that reverie to the past. Danielle had to admit herself to be a faithless wife and one that always reverted back to the man she adored. When Leon was with her, that was all she imagined, something that made it bearable, even as her husband was petting her and talking to her belly like their son was listening (if she was having a boy, something she agreed with as the days passed). That last night with Teller...it had been another lifetime ago. Best to wipe it away from her memory and focus on being the prisoner trophy wife she was supposed to be.

But that smile from Logan…it was just for _her_ …

Really, what bothered Leon and Peter the most (and not the three mutants left behind in Salem Center) was Roger Mortimer, someone who escaped their grasp, unlike Logan. Danielle had no idea where their infamous master spy exactly went, but he was well hidden and driving the two insane with irritation. He was also a good driving force, she saw, and it was he that started the rumors through their final push late 1996 into the late spring of 1997. Words are full of wind, he taught Danielle early on, and they carry a lot of weight. Since Ellis took over the government, Roger had been fueling a small fire that was transforming into a large one. It soon grew into a continuous list of grievances that turned everyone against each other even more. There was no unity. There was no food, no control, no... _anything_ really except deportation and even that had been blindly ignored because people had been concerned about themselves. Danielle was sure Roger would aim for that once the food issue had either been resolved or swept under a rug. It was a matter of time, patience and some effort, all of these thing she was sure that he and his people had.

Faces swirled in front of Danielle as the pain worsened. She could hardly remember what had happened and only felt her mouth open in a small scream that she still quickly. Closing her eyes had been better than seeing the blood that seeped in puddles below her. From there, she was able to concentrate better, although the people she knew and loved came and went in her mind. First, she saw her mother, who was there for her in some ways and was always trying to find a way to commit suicide. Shannon Mitchell was displeased about this marriage and even told Danielle as much, before she was carted back to the farmhouse in chains, condemned to a life of solitary confinement with nurses trained to keep her subdued and mostly unconscious. Then, Danielle saw Jay and Fiona, young and happy again, holding her then-baby nephew, Jax, before he was harshly taken away from them, after Fiona's disappearance on that Christmas Eve. The two had been so complete in their love for each other, Danielle recalled, and Jay heading overseas had ruined her as much as her kidnapping (never solved) had made her brother bitter, made worse when Jax was taken away.

Finally, a wave of faces each called out to Danielle, one after another, and told her many wordless pleas, asking for help when she could not give it to herself. Jean, Scott, Alex, Ororo, Hank...too many had screamed for her attention, telling her that it was worthless and nothing could be done anymore. In the end, with a final yelp and a push from her weakening body that did not have relief, Danielle felt the expulsion of a large mass that cried out with that effort. While she felt her life fading away from her, death hovering nearby, a new life was sent into this world and one that Danielle was anxious not to show her new baby.

"It's a boy!" the cry went out. "It's a boy! It's a boy!"

So, the struggle was over. Danielle tried sitting up in her wet hospital bed, sore from the exertion, and ignored the blood she still felt slipping from her between her legs. Instead, she feebly reached over for the small, crying bundle that was dripping mucus and blood too. Her silent order had been obeyed, her arms soon covered in the slime and curling around the mewing child that was now hers.

"Michael," Danielle called the baby, a name that she knew Leon had liked. "Deliverer of us all."

 _Of what?_ Danielle did not know yet. All she knew was that she was so tired and now felt a love for a being that she never thought was possible. It was a mother's love and one that she would never let go of, no matter the consequences.


	4. Beware!

It had been two days since Michael had been born, but Danielle was still enjoying the time with him despite the expectations placed upon him. Although a day away from her discharge and being separated from Michael (being sent to the nursery), she had been spent every moment she could with her newborn son, even breastfeeding him at night with great disapproval and disappointment from all. She studied him, noting the wrinkles that soon smoothed away to baby fine skin, and the reddish-blonde hair that shone through after he had been cleaned up. His eyes were Leon's, a dark grey that seemed to want to turn to blue, like Peter's. However, to her, he was perfect, whether he was human or mutant. She could not tell yet either or not he would be different. It remained to be seen and it might be years until Leon found out. It was enough time for him to be normal.

Night soon fell. The nurses checked on the both of them, again asking Danielle if they could take the baby for the night. Although still hurting from her protracted labor, Danielle declined politely, smiling when she did. Honestly, she preferred that Leon arrived or even Jay and her mother. Even the lazy Peter and the snide Mary would be a nice change too, although they could care less for a child they could not have. She wanted so badly to show Michael off to anyone in his immediate family, desperate to display how amazing she was to make such a beautiful child. Alas, she was alone and without company except for those who would take Michael away and perhaps test him for all of the imperfections Leon hated. Besides, it would take too much energy for self-pity, she concluded, and chose to just order the curtains shut and the door closed. Then, she was alone with Michael.

There were dim lights around her, most of them around her bed. Danielle could reach over to a switch easily enough, even with Michael in her arms, and turn them off. She was loathe to fall asleep with her son and preferred him in the bassinet next to her. However, tonight was a special night and she needed him in her arms all night. By tomorrow afternoon, she was going to be going back to what was supposed to be her home, to hand Michael over to nurses that would look after him, all of them headed by Mary, a woman that Danielle did not want watching her son. That hated woman, who said as much to Danielle that she was jealous of her youth and fertility, was vindictive and would do anything to hurt her and anything she loved. She resolved that it would be the one time she would appeal to Leon for something, a plea she was sure would fall on deaf ears. However, she was willing to try it and protect her only child from harm.

Before long, the darkness enveloped her and Michael. Content that he was sleeping for now and feeling unusually weak, Danielle decided that she needed to get some rest as well. Carefully, she reached over (although it hurt her so much) and put Michael back into the comfortable bassinet. She leaned back into the bed, gratified to be laying still, and soon heard a rustling noise behind a curtain as she closed her eyes. Her powers had been rusty, unused to being in control and linking to Jay, and even felt just as sleepy as she was when she tried reaching out with her invisible hand. What she reached surprised her and made her gasp in surprise. Her hand then moved away from the red button calling for help, waiting for the person to show himself.

Logan moved forward soon enough, keeping to the shadows so that nobody else could have seen him. When he sure that nobody was coming in anytime soon, he rushed to Danielle and took her into his arms, gently kissing her forehead and then down to her lips. Danielle drank him in, trying her hardest not to make any noise as she returned every endearment and feeling frantic to make sure Logan was real. She was also worried about the camera that watched her every move, but when she tried locating it, it seemed to be invisible.

Feeling the same way, Logan let Danielle go, standing by Michael in a protective manner. "They won't realize we're here for maybe another hour or so from now. We're safe."

Danielle breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like herself for the first time in over a year. "Are you sure?"

"You think I leave loose threads?"

"No. After spending time with Leon –"

"It's Leon now, huh?"

The tone was rude, something that made Danielle blush as red as her hair. "Yes, it is. It's a habit now. I'm sorry, Logan."

"No harm done." He meant otherwise, hurt still that Danielle was married to another man and angry that he was not hers. To hide it better, he turned to Michael, still sleeping peacefully. "Your son?"

It was meant to make conversation and Danielle saw it. "Yes," she replied. "However, I do not think Leon would like the name I picked out for him."

"Oh?"

"Michael Jayden Ellis."

"I think your brother will be pleased. What difference would it make for your husband? He should be happy that his son was born."

"It does matter because I live with him and his family and friends. That's why."

There was a sound of allegiance to Danielle's voice. Logan wanted to feel betrayed. After all, it burned him inside to think of her as someone else's woman. However, the way she merged into her new married life and was defending it was alarming. She did not realize perhaps that the world around them was crumbling and that there was no way out of it, although Danielle had seen it firsthand before she was whisked away. That was not it. Maybe Danielle decided to assimilate with Ellis' way of life and felt she had to live through it? That was most likely the case. Danielle wasn't going to survive being the way she was. There was no way, especially since she was a known mutant and would be spotted if she used her powers. Already, she had been locked away since her marriage and no news filtered out about her except that she had a son and that was two days ago. Everyone wished her well in the meantime (and all over the world too), forgetting that she had been an assassin and a spy that knew no bounds and was in love with a man old enough to outlive her and then some. She was a darling woman now, a long sought-out one for pictures and articles. It was something Logan knew that Ellis wasn't willing to give out freely. It would give credence to the lies he gave out about her.

Danielle saw the turmoil in Logan's eyes, her powers begging to be released and to comfort him. When she pushed them back, she smiled at him tightly. "How is everyone?"

"Hank has been finding new projects around the mansion, mostly cleaning," Logan recounted, seeing the change in topic quickly. "He managed to get more the regular cable channels on TV and it's been...entertaining at night. Makes me want to hide in the woods more often. The Professor has been writing more his fair share and locking it away. Nobody knows why."

"And you? What's happening with you?"

"Been here, there and everywhere."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you can figure it out yourself, Danielle."

Danielle sighed. "Ok, so you've been escaping and nobody blinks an eye. Am I right?"

Logan grinned, crossing his arms. "You're catching on again."

"Been too long, I think. Lack of thinking causes that, you know."

"I'd say that. Come on. What do you really do all day?"

Danielle suddenly got a dreamy look on her face before answering. "Sitting. Dazing. Nothing much, especially since…you know…before the baby was born. I'd get up in the morning, dress, pretend to pray and pay attention to mass, have breakfast, have an hour with Leon, "sit, maybe sew with Mary, lunch, more sitting, dinner, even _more_ sitting…"

Logan laughed softly. "Anything else?"

"I haven't been writing," Danielle lamented. "There hasn't been a moment of privacy. Mary tried teaching me some crafty things a few months ago and soon gave up. I can sew and cross stitch. That's about it. However, that's not enough to keep me busy. So, I try reading a book, but it has to be approved by Leon."

"Do you hear any news from home?"

"Not a lot. I mean, I know that we are living like kings with all of the food we get and the roof over our heads. Even then, I'd think we'd be running out soon. I see people fighting some miles away sometimes. I know of some rumors."

"Would you believe me if I said your husband is either hated or loved?"

"Not surprised. I don't know what to think of him anymore. I hate him, but he has given me no personal reason past discriminating and making this place so miserable to be a citizen of. He's been kind to me though. He buys me things he'd like to see me in, says he'll give me favors and makes sure that I am comfortable. He has never hit me, even though he has done so to others, and has given me every courtesy. There's a certain aura about him though and I can't pinpoint what it is. It's so dark and mysterious…it makes me not want to seek him out."

"Beware of the hand who feeds you."

"What?"

Logan waved his hand in dismissal. "You're forgetting again. But continue on. I'd _love_ to hear of Leon Ellis' humanity and how he at least treats his wife with more respect than his own people."

Danielle noted the sarcasm and ignored it, although she was annoyed. "Forget it, Logan. You don't understand."

"What I understand is what is in front of me," Logan replied tartly. "I'm worried about you, Danielle. Ellis isn't the type of man to stay tamed for long. According to Mae –"

"Wait! When have you heard from Mae?"

"Some time ago. We needed some information about her brother."

"Oh."

"There's some dirty laundry in that family. Did you know your husband was in the same company as your father in Vietnam?"

"No. I tend to not want to know about my father."

"Yes, well…I think you can figure out that it was the beginning of that wonderful friendship. Teller was just another contact of your father's in Salem Center who was introduced to Ellis when he was down on his luck and looking for a political career. Now, back to your husband, that rising star. He was a known womanizer back in the day and forced a few woman to get rid of his unborn children many times when he was first in Congress, not wanting the reputation. He then helped to clear Mary Belkin's name when she was accused of murder several times."

"I knew that she was accused of murdering her brother when he was a teenager. She was cleared of the charges though and soon married Peter."

"Mary's brother was just like us," Logan pointed out. "He was a mutant whose body was found in a garbage dumpster. The murder weapon was his own baseball bat and the only other person who handled it was Mary. Danielle, she may have been declared innocent, but she's possibly killed more people. Everything has been conveniently swept under the rug. This is why I'm warning you. I love you, Danielle, more than you'll ever know. These people will kill you at your first moment of weakness. You can't fall of their so-called kindness."

"What would you want me to do?" Danielle felt tears come down her face, something that was agitating her powers. "Spurn them at every moment?"

"No." Logan wiped the uncharacteristic tears away and sat down on the bed, holding Danielle in his arms, even though she cringed. "No, Danielle. I want you to survive and t remember where you came from. You can't make this relationship like Vinnie. You can't let it control you or consume you. You need to stand tall and get through it the best way you can. You need to stay alive, especially for Michael. We will all help you. We're always behind you, even if you don't see it."

"How?" Danielle asked, although she had the strange feeling that she knew the answer.

Logan kissed Danielle on the forehead. "The less you know, babe, the more innocent you are."

By then, it seemed the right time to leave. The nurses might be suspicious and check in. Logan unhooked himself from Danielle and got up, taking one last glance at Michael (his hopes being that he was not a mutant), and then dared a final gaze at Danielle. There were again tears in her eyes, but at least there wasn't a flare-up of her powers. Smiling, he waved a farewell and then he was gone, as if he never was in the room at all.


	5. Trapped

The next day, stoic and trying the best she could to not cry, Danielle left the hospital and with great publicity and fanfare around her. Leon had managed to send an armored car for her safety as well as Michael's, the lights from the reporters' camera flashing against the windows when she was wheeled out and then helped inside the vehicle. She entered it willingly though, holding onto her son tightly as the driver took her back to the mansion that she was supposed to call home. It was thankfully a long ride, an hour before they arrived, and one that had Danielle feed Michael privately. Worse was the people outside. It had seemed overwhelmingly like thousands had lined the pathway home and were cheering her on, even as the gates to her home closed behind them. Immediately after the driver parked inside the safety of their secured property, Danielle was greeted with the sight of her husband and his entourage. While the driver was being carted away for questioning, she was being escorted out of the seat by Leon and taken into his arms. Although he was careful not to hurt their son between them, he still took a chance at looking at Michael. Leon then took the baby into his arms and admired him, gazing between him and Danielle in turn. He was more than pleased that the doctors had been right from the beginning and he had a son to succeed him.

"What a beautiful child," Leon commented softly, walking to the door with Danielle right behind him. The others followed suit. "Mary will be pleased."

"I am sure," Danielle replied sharply, feeling the pit of her stomach drop in dread. This was the moment she had been waiting for, but she did not want to break this magical spell. Leon seemed so calm.

"She has been waiting to care for a baby since she was married almost two decades ago," Leon continued, not paying attention as they entered the main hallway to their home and then turned to the stairwell on the right. "I am sure you know of her struggles to have children. We've grieved with her on every loss."

Danielle gritted her teeth in irritation. "Yes, I do understand her heartaches. However, Leon, there is something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yes?" Leon stopped on a stair near the top, turning back to her with Michael curled on his chest. By then, the people who had been following them also started staring at Danielle with the same curious and cross eyes he had.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you about Michael's caretakers," Danielle started with uncertainty. "I am sure that we can discuss this matter at a later time and –"

"I thought I made myself clear when we were married," Leon interjected in a cold voice, a tone that cut Danielle to the bone and embarrassed her, especially with so many people around them. "I make the household decisions and choose who is in charge of it. You accept it, no matter what it is."

Suddenly, everyone leaned forward, eager to hear the first argument the first couple had. Danielle wasn't giving it to them though. She inclined her head down, admitting defeat, and waited until Leon had calmed down. When he saw that she was submissive and would talk no more, he backed down, turning right around and finishing the trek upstairs. Danielle again followed, soon becoming the last in line behind the herd of watchers, and gulped a thick lump in her throat as Leon handed Michael over to Mary's aching and waiting arms.

The look of pure triumph on Mary's face was obvious when she took the precious bundle too, ignoring the cries that sprung from the baby suddenly and putting him to her shoulder. She had been waiting for a child to care for in the years since she was married to Peter. Stupid, selfish Peter, Danielle thought. He had been more interested in other women and not the one he married, although three miscarriages and Mary's political climb characterized their marriage. Peter may be in charge of Leon's secret police, but he was lazy and lacked imagination. He left work with his men and chose to golf and drink instead…and allowing Mary free rein of anything she wished.

With a quivering lip and threatening tears, Danielle watched as Mary moved Michael from her shoulder to her arms, declaring that she would love him as a son, and took him to his cradle. While the company viewed the show with interest, Danielle had enough and decided to leave. Nobody paid attention to her anyway, the true mother who lost her son and was leaking blood and milk. Their eyes were hypnotized with Mary, now saying that she would be as a mother and more to Michael, and none of the seeing the misery of the one who gave birth to the baby.

Danielle walked down the hallway to her suite of rooms. A servant or two bustled around the area and paid her no heed, working around her open doorway with oblivion. She entered, seeing that someone had redecorated her rooms with cheerier colors, better than the drab that Leon initially allowed. Some balloons strayed in corner, celebrating Michael's birth. A set of streamers, in light blue and clear white, danced around the room, edges flying with the breeze coming through an open window.

Still overwhelmed, Danielle found a seat on the couch in the visitors' section, laying down on it and closing her eyes, trying to tune into herself and see if she could find Jay, wherever he was. She soon was sucked into her powers, hoping to find out more instead of relying on her physical senses, and soon had to pull herself back because her husband was coming from the nursery and had wanted to see her. She opened her eyes without a clue about Jay, seeing Leon above her head. She went to smile, playing innocent and remembering who she was (or how Logan remembered her as), and was met to a smack to the mouth.

Immediately, Danielle wiped the new blood trail from her face, something she did not expect, and failed to keep it from coming down her chin. There was no way to staunch the blood right away, the liquid dripping through her fingers and onto her clothes. She soon realized that the force had even included Leon's rings, some of them with sharp edges and stones, and all of his military training. This had been done intentionally and without regret.

"The hospital told me that their security had been blacked out for an hour late last night," Leon said. "Want to explain to me why?"

"Considering I was with Michael the whole time and then went to sleep, I cannot." Danielle got up from the couch and stood tall, hoping to hide Logan through this new series of fibs. She would use her assassins' skills to get her through this. "I did not notice a thing."

"Liar," Leon hissed. "You mutants all are nothing but liars and I will find out the truth."

The last thing Danielle remembered was Leon quickly raising his hand again and it coming down in her direction. She had no time to react, not even to block it, and knew nothing more until she awoke some time later in her bedroom, cold and lonely. Realizing what had happened (and finding her wounds from the labor and Leon not quite healed), she jumped up in pain and dashed for the door, hoping to give her husband an explanation and reconcile with him. She wanted to make everything well again. She wanted to see Michael and be a family, to be the perfect wife and mother Leon wanted her to be.

With horror, Danielle discovered that the door was locked from the outside. She was trapped.

~00~

It had taken Logan a few days to get back to Salem Center. Although the past year had seen the east coast in turmoil, it was still fairly easy to take a public transit without being detected and asked for ID, something Ellis had ordered just six months ago. Most drivers of either trains, cars or buses, refused to stay for long at stops and drove too fast, not having time to check IDs and to see the M above the eyebrow (something Logan was always keen to hide). Logan never liked flying in planes to begin with and was slightly disturbed at the speed taken in each vehicle, but was happy to be home in Salem Center nonetheless. The last bus dropped him off down the road and he walked the rest of the way, passing the guards that watched the mansion.

"Good morning, Logan," one said pleasantly as the older mutant entered the gates.

Logan waved a greeting and went on his way to the front doors. He wasn't one to talk much with his captors, thinking it best that way. Indeed, after he, Hank and Xavier found out how sympathetic all of them were and how all of them were underground workers for Roger (something the master spy arranged carefully and without Ellis knowing), they were finally at ease. Video feeds could be manipulated, false reports were sent to DC and letters had been smuggled in and out. Ellis did not know the difference, Logan thought gleefully as he opened the door and entered into the foyer. He might never see it coming either way.

Hank had been anxiously waiting for Logan at the stairwell, pretending to be cleaning some paintings. As soon as he saw Logan, he pranced and dropped his duster, stopping Logan before he exited to the living room. Hank noted that, for the past year or so, Logan had been sleeping in the living room and that had been his sole refuge. Although several rooms had been available for usage, Hank did not think that Logan needed any reminders. His room had been closed off unless he needed some clothes (which was rare) and he hardly helped Hank in cleaning out the other ones and putting personal items into storage. It was too painful, even for Hank, to see the final messes left by those who they did not know were coming back.

"Any news?" Hank asked Logan in the doorway, anxious to hear of his visit to DC.

Logan shrugged his shoulders, pulling out a cigar and twirling it in his fingers. "Usual. Gotta say that Roger's rumors are working. I've heard them coming out of people living as far away as Alaska and all of them looking at Ellis with some doubt. There is still support for him though."

Hank nodded. "That's good, I guess. It means some are discontented with Ellis. Words fuel a fire and we would need to quench it when it doesn't go Ellis' way. We can't let it get out of control."

"Right." Logan had to agree with Hank for once. "Nothing about the mutants. Most of them know about the camps and the ghettos in northern Alaska and in the middle of nowhere Kansas and in California. Most don't know what to think. They believe that we are a threat and that it went too far. Nobody wants to stop it."

Hank muttered something about people not thinking before they act, but stopped himself before he himself went too far. "Well, I would assume that there is more than just gossip about."

"Chaos," Logan confirmed. "Nobody likes being out in the neighborhood for too long."

"Any effort to contain it?"

"Ellis is trying. He has his so-called secret police out, which is headed by his idiot cousin. Some work they do though. In reality, some guy named Dean Ferris is calling the shots for Peter Ellis. He used to work for some company named Trask in the sixties and early seventies with his younger brother. The company went under some years ago and was picked up by the Ellis family last year. Something about getting the supplies out. Beats me, since the original owner and founder has been in federal prison since 1974 and died fifteen years later."

"Bolivar Trask, you mean. And yes, I recalled his passing in the newspaper some years ago. It wasn't pretty, I heard. He committed suicide by using a rope he hid and waiting until everyone's backs were turned. I heard it was difficult, short as he was, and he suffered a lot."

"Some ending. It just means that Ellis has access to his things. Makes me wonder why."

"Trask wasn't very kind to mutants and experimented on them, even if he claimed to admire them. You should remember."

When Logan gave Hank a blank face (the cigar now unlit in his mouth), showing that it did not recall that, he let it go. Instead, Hank tried thinking about what would happen next now that they were freer than they thought and had more power than Ellis saw. True, it was still so confusing out there and that they could not do much to sway public opinion. However, if they caught a break at the right time and made the next wave that Ellis started so long ago, then they might have a chance. It was as Xavier said. They would need patience and a lot of time, just as Ellis did. Compared to when they started, they were more organized, had an action plan and might have more people on their side.

"Would you like to hear of Danielle?" Logan finally asked when the cigar came out, something that would catch Hank's attention instead of his musings. The cancer-causing stick went back to playtime, which made Hank nervous as Logan's hands were shaky.

"Huh? Sure, Logan." Hank's eyes lit up. "A son or daughter? There hasn't been much news filtering in here."

"I'm sure Roger's men would tell you if you asked them," Logan corrected when he hid his hands and the cigar. "It's a boy. Michael Jayden Ellis."

Hank snickered, something he could not help. "That's going to make Ellis so angry."

"I'm sure. However, the lack of coverage on Danielle, excepting being released from the hospital, is disturbing. Ellis is a high profile political figure. You would have thought that his wife and son would be too."

"The wedding was enough publicity in his book, Logan. Hiding a mutant wife when he has condemned so many others to torture and worse is key. Ellis may have restricted Danielle's movements and ensured that nobody saw her except a selected few. Roger has sent a message recently while you were gone, stating that Danielle is controlled and under maximum security, but not by who and how. Ellis would be the top person, we would assume, and his spies, who we are trying to figure out. The web is extremely sticky and complicated."

"I can see that. She has already forgotten who she is."

"Ahh, Logan, it's quite normal for one like Danielle. Without realizing it, Ellis treats her like a queen and then takes it all away. A complex and very tiring exercise, but it's all alike. It's the same thing Vinnie did and then some, remember. We'll get her out. We all promised."

"Yeah, if the Professor does not change his mind."

"He orders when he needs to, Logan. You know that Charles will do what he can in public and continue in private. That's just the way he is. He needs to make sure we're safe and lead the other spies on. We can't let people know our very move."

Logan sighed. "Regardless, Fuzzball, things are still not good. I think we need more outside help."

"More than Roger?" Hank raised a hairy blue eyebrow, ignoring the nickname. "He has agents across the country, Logan. Most of the people we alone have are in hiding and refuse to come out. If our heads are out of the sand, we might have them chopped off. Alex saw this. This is why he ran off with Scott and Jean in search of Loran and her family."

"We can't just sit here and pretend to be doing something," Logan pointed out.

"No, we can't," Hank agreed. "However, I think we might have something in mind and a mission that requires two people. Come, follow me. Charles will have more details if he can get out of his writing."


	6. Dancing with Strangers

**January 1, 1999**

It was a long line out the door of their mansion and into the darkness of night. Danielle glanced down it every once in a while, eager to see its end, and saw nothing of the sort. Sighing and accepting her new role this time (and glad to be free from her room), she continued standing next to Leon like an ornament, greeting each person warmly, feeling lips kiss her hand, and then allowing them inside to the ballroom in the back of their home. After all, all of the guests had been questioned before being allowed to come inside and socialize within their ranks. Leon had ensured her that all of them were loyal friends and followers of him, willing to lay their lives down for them and their son. They only had light questioning before being released to the party.

It was the beginning of the last year in the millennium and one that seemed hopeful, even if it did not seem that way in retrospective. All and all though, it was a dreadful affair. Danielle was allowed to come out of her room for the occasion, drilled by Mary on what to do and say. Mostly, she was instructed to stay silent and to see no one except those thrown her way. However, it just turned out to be a good time to come out and see the lights that Washington, DC put on display and all for her and Michael too, in celebration of their first holidays as a family.

Danielle remembered how dismal the last holiday was, just the week before, and fought back tears as the lights from the city continued to flash in her face. It was Michael's first Christmas and one she hardly participated in, she thought miserably when the line shortened. She saw Mary open all of Michael's presents under the tree in the living room, with him in her lap and screaming to be let go, but that was about it before she was escorted back to her bedroom. Since Michael's homecoming, she had been stowed away in her bedroom anyway, visited by servants and Leon on occasion. She eat meals in there, talked with no one and just sewed clothes, crafts and other fabric items, giving them away to the poor even as Leon passed laws that outlawed welfare to those who needed it. Staying in there also got her pregnant again. She was eight weeks along and enjoying the fresh air that her room could no longer give. The stiffness in there made her sicker.

"Happy New Year," Danielle automatically said repeatedly to each person still, offering her hand and allowing it to be kissed thousands of times by now.

Leon nodded to, echoing the same greeting and smiling, pretending that all was well between them. He also seemed pleased that Danielle was trained well by Mary, noting her perfections and how wonderful of a wife she turned out to be, and that she might be molded into something more and maybe even cured of her mutation. Danielle did not like hearing Leon's thoughts in her mind (her powers always wanting to be used) and did not like how high she was raised either, feeling more nervous as time passed. She was supposed to be addressed as Her Excellency each and every time. She most certainly did not feel that way, even when Leon pretended to be solicitous about her, wrapping his spare arm around her shoulders and whispering loving words every once in a while.

It was close to nine in the evening before the end of the line came to the front and Danielle was liberated of her obligation. By then, hundreds of people had crammed themselves into the mansion and were animatedly talking, dancing and drinking all around or in the ballroom. Sighing with relief this time when an unusual English couple was announced last (the Count and Countess Salisbury), Leon took Danielle by the arm, hooking his into hers, and led her to the ballroom, where the music started up. On cue, Leon led the first dance, yelling to one and all to join in. Soon, couples of all ages had twirled around the first couple of the country, not daring to touch them, even by a hair. Danielle knew that it was against the law to put a hand on them, unless for medical reasons, and the wide berth reminded her of how isolated from the people she and Leon really were.

"So, I've heard that you've been busy," Leon commented to Danielle when he knew nobody was listening. Well, except for Peter and Mary, Danielle realized, who were standing near the spiked punch bowl.

"Yes," Danielle confirmed confidently. "I've been sewing."

"The servant downstairs say that you give away your things to the people outside the gates who beg for help. They walk away happy and tell everyone else that their leader's wife will do anything for them. Good God, Danielle, we don't know if they're the enemy or not and that's why talk has been spreading, naming you in many conspiracies. It's gossip I cannot stand."

"I know of no other way to help them, Leon. They will stand there and freeze if we do nothing. The servants said they certainly did not need to charity and pointed out those who did. Best to give the clothing to those who need it more than we do."

"The rich are those who are entitled to everything," Leon clarified, his tone almost like a teacher to a student and very condescending too. "The poor are to fend for themselves since they were put in that position by their own actions. The servants should also keep to themselves. I would like the names who talked to you later. If their mouths cannot be shut, we will do it for them."

Danielle did not want to correct her husband in public and just bowed her head in defeat once more. "Yes, of course. You would know better than I."

"I would prefer if you make clothes for our new child anyway," Leon added with a snobbish sniffle. "Nobody else needs it."

Danielle nodded. She decided it was best to drop the topic and get on with this show. She continued the steps needed for their elegant shuffle on the floor, taking in the applause afterward when it was over, and was soon escorted to her dinner table seat by Leon. He sat down for a few minutes with her, taking in dinner just as she did, and was soon excusing himself. He wanted to greet some guests that belatedly came in, calling out that the Countess Salisbury wanted to talk to her and someone was to seat her to Danielle's left. Smiling and feeling every pair of eyes on her, Danielle waited patiently until the woman came, greeting her with a grin that was so familiar that Danielle ha to rack her brain to figure out why the woman was so recognizable. Then, she had to do a double-take. It was Jean.

Leon (and Peter and his cronies too) would not have recognized Jean though, something that Danielle did not need to worry about even if her surprise had been spotted. Jean had dyed her hair platinum blonde and had changed her eye color from brown to blue. She also had makeup on that made her instantly plain and easy to lose in a crowd of people. Even her clothes were not out of place and did not stand out, more like an upper class English woman and not the comfortable clothes Jean usually wore. The disguise, all and all, was too perfect.

"Countess," Danielle greeted, again nodding her head as Peter and Mary passed them before the table.

"Excellency," Jean replied, taking Danielle's hand and kissing it once more. In a whisper, she added, "Walk with me to the gardens. Nobody will notice us there."

As if on cue, everyone froze. The music stopped and the general noises ceased. Jean then stood up, Danielle following her motion. The two then strolled out the double doors into the cold air, out to the back property. While Jean was aptly dressed for the weather outside, Danielle was not, even though her dress was thick and her shoes making her feet toasty. She grabbed a jacket from a guard outside, wrapping herself in it and breathing hot air out to adjust to the temperature, and sat with Jean at the fountain's edge some feet away. The lights then dimmed a little from lack of use.

"I did not know you could do that," Danielle remarked. It was a skill that she knew Xavier to possess and one she did not, mostly from lack of trying.

"The Professor taught me many things," Jean automatically responded, rubbing her arms to keep them warm. "That isn't the point though. Being here was. Alex and I are checking things out. Logan was here a few months ago and we're just confirming some things he saw and heard. He would have been here had it not been for the security increase."

"Like what?" The way Jean said the words made Danielle think there was something wrong.

Jean waved her hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about that now. I was concerned about you and the state of affairs."

" _Me_?"

"Yes. We've heard many things. I just want to get it from you personally."

"Like what?"

"Anything you have. Do you know of your husband's plans? Anything he is trying to pass as law or is considering as law? Any more camp locations, ghettos or labs?"

Danielle shook her head. "No. I don't have anything. I'm not privy to anything Leon has planned. You can ask Roger for help. I'm sure he has more information."

"There is only so much Roger can do before his head is seen," Jean pointed out. "He has people everywhere, but there is never enough he can do. He thought you might have some influence, although he said you were controlled, and might be able to give us a direction to go in."

"No. Leon doesn't tell me anything. He feels it is none of my business. He treats me like a doll and then throws me away when I'm too mutant for him. I don't have news of anything or anybody except what's been told to me, not since August. I haven't even seen my son twice since he was taken away from me after he was born. I even missed his first Christmas." Danielle choked back a sob.

Jean hugged Danielle tightly, feeling the emotion underneath the façade, and then felt the embrace returned. "I know, Danielle. I know. We're working slowly. It's just egging on everyone else."

"We always were so slow," Danielle replied, muffled when her mouth pressed to Jean's clothed shoulder. "I don't think we can beat Leon. We couldn't sway opinion the first time around and try to stop him. The public allowed him to destroy everything we stood for. What makes you think we can reverse it?"

"More time and patience," Jean reassured her. "Have some hope."

"I'm always told that," Danielle reminded her, moving her chin to rest on Jean's shoulder instead. "Sometimes, I don't see an ending and this madness keeps going on for years and years. I can't hold onto something when everything around me falls apart. It takes that feeling away."

"Shh, I know." Jean patted Danielle's back gently before letting her go. "You need to get back in and be on show. I need to somehow persuade Alex that we need to talk to Ellis about something and then leave. We're pretending to be dissatisfied people with the queen and all. He didn't want to stay long at all. He's more worried about being found out."

"How did you get Alex to come along?"

"Well, originally, the Professor and Hank wanted Logan to come along since he could blend in so well. Scott did not like Logan playing the part of my so-called husband and elected his brother instead. For obvious reasons, Scott could not come along and needed someone he trusted and he did not quit trust Logan with me, even after all this time. On the other hand, Alex has been trying to be cautious and does not want to make a wrong move. He is planning on moving us again after tonight. He thinks Ellis might look us up if we play our parts right and doesn't need to be under a microscope."

Danielle felt her heart break when Jean announced going away again, but got up anyway, her hand lingering on Jean before she let go completely. "Come on. Let's go back inside then. I want to see how long this will last before I am allowed to go back to my room."

Jean nodded. The two then turned to go back to the mansion. Danielle put the coat back on the guard and straightened it out before she arrived back at her seat. Jean had disappeared back into the crowds by then and had released everyone from their frozen state, all of them unaware of what happened and that time hardly passed. Danielle watched them all, waiting for Leon to come back. When he did, around eleven in the evening, he sat next to her again, whispering that she should dance with Peter. While Leon appeared tired and did not seem to be in a good mood, Danielle agreed in order to avoid an argument. She again stood up and went to Peter before the table, executing a perfect waltz before being seated at around midnight.

By then, the party was over. The company was allowed to leave and was checked on their way out the door, some of them facing arrest and more. Leon, who took Danielle from Peter to keep her from the scene, walked with her out of the ballroom and down the hallway to the front stairwell. They climbed up together, still arm-in-arm like a harmonious couple, and did not speak. Leon led Danielle to the nursery, where she heard their baby scream. They had not been there together since Michael was brought home and Mary took him. However, the closer they came, the louder the noise was. Danielle knew that Michael had a good set of lungs (she heard him enough times down the hall), but the way he was protesting, it was echoing everywhere. It was like he was right next to a person and not some yards away.

Leon and Danielle stopped before the open doorway, watching Michael being tended to by another caretaker as she calmed the baby down. "Do you see him?" Leon then asked Danielle, letting go of her and putting a hand to her back to hold her in place. "He was so perfect when he was born. So many opportunities opened up for him. He would be an heir to an empire that would expand beyond these borders, I promise you. Yet, something strange happened today and that alarmed me so much that I am afraid that he might not be desirable as my successor. Some tests would need to be done in order to determine the truth of the matter."

"Leon, what are you talking about?" Danielle felt dread in her heart, soon realizing what he was talking about.

Suddenly, Danielle felt a sharp pain in her back, right above her _Nevermore_ tattoo. Leon allowed her to slip out of his arms, watching as she collapsed to the floor, blood oozing out from the new wound. Danielle felt her body shudder, out of her control, and could not help but cry out loud in dismay when she felt the new life she was so proud of slipping away from her and appearing as a dark mass on the carpeted floor. The caretaker covered Michael's eyes and turned her back, but ignored the action itself, pretending that she did not see anything. It was easier that way and most certainly another secret that Danielle knew everyone carried in this place.

"So ends another mutant life," Leon announced, wiping his bloody knife on Danielle's dress and walking away.


	7. Heads out of the Sand

Roger usually spent many boring days being with his family in the mountains, hidden well out of sight as he schemed. Well, he shouldn't call them empty and lifeless. He was fascinated with his stepson Gil, who had recovered from his attack some years ago and was slowly getting used to being with people again. Everyday, Roger was trying to find something new for him to do, most of it dealing with electronics or sometimes making sure there was a pool filled with warm water for him to swim in. At night, entwined in the best way, Mae occupied his thoughts and dreams and the two made time for each other in small ways, with a wink here or a grope there. The woman was making him softer and that alone made Roger wary, especially when he managed to get out in disguise and get around without being seen. However, with sadness, he had to leave the two behind one cold night in mid-January, only leaving Mae a note to let her know that he was going to be disappearing for a month or so.

Roger, traveling as a government man named James Henderson, made his way back to Salem Center via train and arrived just after dawn, taking the first bus into town. Although he had not physically seen the three remaining behind since he went into hiding with Mae and Gil, he still had some information to exchange with them. Bad enough he had to do everything long distance and feeling determined that finally, this time, Xavier was ready for the action. Worse was that Ellis might catch on if he looked hard enough. However, being under his brother-in-law's nose was exciting to Roger. It was the best place to be and one that Ellis would not bothering looking at.

Salem Center was a quiet place in the morning, Roger noted. Although the bakers still allowed the heat of their ovens out and the market owners opened their doors with nothing but a lock being undone, the town remained deserted and full of ghosts. Trash was everywhere, graffiti declaring sides all over the place. Even some windows remained broken, its holes showing an empty darkness inside that even chilled Roger. Taking the next bus that led out of town towards Westchester, Roger paid extra to the driver and told him to drop him off near the Westchester line. There was a farm there that always sought employment and he hinted that he needed to inspect it. From there, it a long walk to Xavier's and one that was worth it. It was enough to keep suspicion off of him and even had the driver joyous the rest of the way.

Roger waited until the bus was out of sight before walking the other way. By the time he reached the mansion by foot, it was midmorning and he was tired and his throat begged for water. He met the guards at the door nonetheless, showing ID and that he was a government worker inspecting the place of imprisonment. They nodded (they were his men after all) and allowed him inside, four of the flanking him on all sides to escort him to the doors. By then, the next four men took over and walked him through the front door to the foyer. They called out to another guard in code, who ran to get the prisoners of the house. Roger called out that he would be inspecting the house as they all dispersed. He went to the stables in the back, where he recalled that many students enjoyed their horse rides, and waited, the cameras in there turned off conveniently enough. Although no animals had been housed here for a few years, Roger still smelled them in the abandoned stalls.

Xavier soon arrived, followed by Hank and then Logan. The last managed to get his customary cigar in (although it was unlit), smuggled in for him on Roger's nickel and dime (the prices of everything being so high and he damning Logan for his not-so-cheap anymore luxuries). Smoking in the house was forbidden by Xavier anyway, so it must have taken all of Logan's willpower not to light up, Roger observed with amusement. He noted that Logan carelessly chewed on its end, waiting for the meeting to begin.

"What do you have, Roger?" Xavier asked in a tired manner. While wheelchair bound and normally very collective when riding (although Roger knew that the Professor had the power to walk if need be), Xavier appeared tired and older than Roger remembered.

"Many things," Roger confirmed, taking out several files and giving them to Hank. While the blue mutant started scanning them, Roger continued. "First thing's first. I found out the mystery behind Fiona Mitchel…or at least a part of it."

"How?" Logan seemed shocked, his cigar dropping to the floor. "We weren't able to find her when she disappeared. It was like she never existed."

"Ellis made is appear like Fiona was dead or maybe ran away if she was alive," Roger said. "Remember when the PD found that body and Jay screamed to the rooftops that it wasn't his wife?"

Hank nodded as he read the file contents, but did not look up. "What about it, Roger?"

"Well, the body was actually a distant cousin of Fiona's, some Ellis relation," Roger explained. "Fiona is actually related to the dictator who rules us all, some cousin trice removed or whatever. Anyway, this cousin also had a car accident around the same time, down in Tarrytown. Ellis hushed it up and moved the body. Fiona has been alive and well for some years now. Teller had been speaking the truth. She has been moved from place to place, housed between New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island and New Jersey. Currently, she's in Jersey, in one of their garbage-filled camps." Roger spat on the ground. "Jersey, land of the dumps and minus the gardens, especially for camps."

"Fiona isn't a mutant," Xavier pointed out.

"No, she's not, but there's a special one for humans who don't like obeying the rules of the playground." Roger seemed grim, like that had been worse. "Ellis got tired of running her from place to place and put her there about a month ago. My men and I have a route to get her, as well as everyone else in that landfill, out to Canada. Charles, I need your support on this."

"What does the Canadian government want in return?" Xavier asked, exasperated in knowing that their neighbor to the north was willing to wheel and deal.

"Nothing really," Roger admitted, something that surprised him too. The Canadian government remembered Logan well and seemed happy enough to help one of their own, even if it's against a person they should be allying with. "They have their own force at the borders, near the walls Ellis had built by mutants, all the time. They would love the additional people to man them on their side and to help them return to their rightful homes."

"Why? Is Ellis planning an attack?" It seemed logical sense to Logan, although Ellis' motives were insane.

"On both Canada and Mexico," Roger verified. "He is gathering the rest of his own forces and training more. Soon, he'll announce mandatory military service for all humans, aged sixteen and up. This does not include women though."

"And from there?" Xavier knew the answer, but he needed confirmation nonetheless.

"Everywhere." Roger wasn't going to sugarcoat it. "Ellis wants world domination and exterminating of everyone he deems unfit for his new empire."

"And Jay Mitchell?" Hank looked up from his reading, his blue finger pointing to a specific line. "You put here that he also has been a prisoner of Ellis since June of 1997, but not where."

"Well, because he and Danielle are extremely special mutants, Jay was placed in a lab while she spent time with her husband." Roger rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, the situation too much to bear some days (mostly because he could not have stopped it). "Ellis is wondering how long the two would last without each other. Jay has been overseas already. It was difficult to keep him and Danielle with it, although they would never admit it. Ellis wants to test their limits, to see how much power they really have. Their imaginations are where the powers end, as we've found out, and death might mean the other goes too. Jay has been proven to be so great that he could destroy a state the size of California without blinking an eye. The same with Danielle. Ellis is keeping them close to his heart, to make them an example eventually, if he happens to hate his wife. However, I think Ellis is more interested in Danielle now that she has proven to be a perfect breeding cow for him."

Logan did not like Roger's tone nor that he called Danielle something so low. He crossed his arms stubbornly. " _And_?" he asked rudely.

"Logan," Xavier warned.

"No, not this time." Logan had to put his foot down somewhere. "Bad enough we put her in that situation."

"So did she," Roger pointed out. "Not my fault her assassin skills did not kick in when it was supposed to."

"We were outnumbered," Xavier reminded Roger.

"And too late," Hank added.

Roger waved his hand in dismissal. "Regardless, we are at fault for what happened and are going to fix it. Rumors are wonderful things and have undermined Ellis in some ways. He has staunch supporters still in DC and that is what counts. Jean and Alex were not able to find a single discontented person there and they left discouraged."

"Do we know where they are?" Xavier inquired, still saddened that he was unable to locate them.

Roger threw his hands in the air this time. "Who knows? Alex has been good about hiding everyone and Jean keeping up the smoke screen. Only thing I know is that Scott and Jean love each other and Alex has been trying to slow them down. Don't want more kids, you see. He and Lorna are a little too late for it and he thinks it's easier with the world without more children to make it complicated. It means more mouths to feed and no guarantee of survival."

"When was the last time you were in contact with Alex?"

"Charles, I hardly get any messages from Alex. He has been strict on communication. The only reason why he bothered was because of you and his respect for the others. He would not have done that plan he schemed. He has his own family to consider. Alex had promised his parents before they died that Scott would be safe. He has to keep his word, especially in light of events from years before. Scott almost died a few times, Charles, and that's hurtful. There's no need to put more guilt on Alex's shoulders."

"I am aware, Roger. I am too painfully aware of Alex's promises."

"His word means everything. This is why I've had to pull one from him."

"What?"

"That he would get his head out of the sand. Charles, we cannot afford this. Alex can hide everyone he wants, but there's only so far that Ellis is willing to go. Our dictator is not a patient man. He has been searching for me alone for months now. Alex is pretty well-known in other government circles and still has support, even if he won't use it. How long would it be before Ellis sees that and turns away from me to him? The Summers need to do something about that. That family cannot stay in hiding for long, especially since Ellis has been particular about finding who he needs. We all need to stand up, Charles. No more backroom discussions, no more playing the nice guy. Sometimes, we need to get dirty in order for the process to work."

Hank did not like Roger's words, accepting them with a gentle close of the files. He had seen enough, handing them to Xavier next. "And then what next, Roger? Your rumors are working."

"Scale the house Ellis is hiding out in," Roger declared. "Everyone there is always interrogated when they enter and some never come out. I have someone who sends Ellis reports daily. She has managed to come out most days and has some drawings of what the place looks like. On the outside, it looks like an over-glorified and secured castle, complete with a high fence around it with electrical wiring, moat with hungry animals and men who monitor the place twenty-four seven. On the inside, it's a rich man's dream come true. Lavish rooms, ballroom and priceless pieces of art. Ellis must have collected them when he took this place. His gardens are unrivaled in the whole country too. Complete with a greenhouse and gardener. However, what interests me the most is the underground tunnels."

"Tunnels?" This finally caught Logan's interest. "Where do they begin and end?"

"Unknown as of yet," Roger confirmed. "However, my messenger is trying to find out and that is a pain in the ass. The interrogation rooms are underground and it's suspicious to explore. She is usually led through them to get in and out though, since Ellis has been trusting her more and more. Indeed, his eyes are wondering too."

"What do you mean?" Logan thought that Ellis loved Danielle. "He's losing interest in his wife?"

"For many reasons, one of which is that their new son is suspected to be a mutant," Roger said gravely. "The kid's voice can be heard like he was next to you. Ellis is having him tested and rumors has it that he wants the kid dead if that's the case. He needs to make sure that his only son would not be inheriting a world he dominated and was something he hated to begin with."

This made Logan's blood turn cold, remembering that tony bundle in the hospital, a baby that was so innocent and ignorant of the world he was inheriting. "And what would happen to Danielle?"

Roger shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows? At the moment, we're trying to figure out how to get her out and more. Ellis has her so high up and so heavily guarded that nobody can get in and out without being seen. He's got so many cameras and other devices hooked around the room and nearby it that he'll know of something before it happens. We'll see how Danielle gets out on her own. I have faith in her."

"What faith?" Hank snickered. He knew that Roger was an atheist.

"Listen, I didn't teach her how to be a princess like her father did," Roger protested, hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. "I am pretty sure this one would find out how to get out of a sticky wicket. However, this isn't the point. What I want to achieve, much more than getting these people to Canada and back home, is at least a region where there's a safe place for everyone."

"Dividing the country isn't going to solve anything," Hank said, although his heart told him that it might need to be achieved before they could unite.

"No," Roger agreed, "but if we have people who are with us on the same boat, it'll be similar to being an ally to another country. Canada needs someone on this side of the wall. What better way than to block off the northeast to Ellis and work on defeat that way? It's a good start."

"How will we take the west then?" Logan uncrossed his arms and then crossed them again.

"I will never reveal my sources." Roger copied Logan's motions, not willing to tell him about his one wild card. "All I can tell you is that she is interested in joining together and moving southward after she finishes playing messenger with Ellis. The other is eager to meet up with you. I think it's the best way."

"I agree." Xavier (knowing of Roger's schemes) closed the files and offered them to Logan. The older mutant shook his head, so Xavier gave them back to Roger. "This time, we cannot afford more losses. In the meantime, I would advise seeing how far those tunnels run and who is at each entranceway and why. I would also get any news of those who are in captivity. Now, Roger, you never told me about Storm. How is she?"

Roger did not want to tell Xavier anything about Ororo and was hoping to avoid the subject altogether. "She has been a personal guest, if you want to call it, of Peter and Mary Ellis," he began.

"And?" Even Hank was anxious to hear.

"I would say that she is treated the same way as Danielle," Roger finally admitted, his face showing that it was more than that. "Storm has been locked away in a bedroom, tended by nobody. She is fed maybe twice a day, if she's lucky, and is…well, shocked into submission. Peter also enjoys the time with her. However, I would wish that Matthew did not know. He has been transferred to the same house and…"

Roger left it there. It was best anyway, considering the circumstances. Matthew Adams, who was half in love with Ororo Munroe to begin with (something Ellis was using to his advantage), was taken from his prison cell in New York City (considering himself lucky not to be in a camp) and given over to Peter Ellis. This cousin of the dictator was a known womanizer like Leon Ellis used to be and also sadistic, especially when it came to women he wanted. He placed shock collars on his two visitors, chaining Ororo to a bed and Matthew to the wall. The rest was left to the imagination and one that Roger wished he did not have to hear in the first place. It was enough to make him throw up and in front of his men too.

Xavier understood, nodding slowly. "At least we know that they're alive. Now, do you have any young mutants?"

"One," Roger confirmed, excited about his recent find. "This one came from Russia. He managed to run away from home with his family's help and came to America and went right back into hiding when he saw the political situation. My men have him situated near the Canadian border, ready to run in either direction. Are you sure you want him, Charles? This is going to be difficult. We can't keep buying extra food."

"I think we'll manage." Xavier seemed confident. "Do you have a name?"

"Goes by Colossus," Roger replied, deciding then that playing with green fire between his fingers was fun. "Real name will come when he's ready to tell it. Now, am I leading the exodus to Canada?"

"Yes." Xavier wasn't going to back down.

"And that myself and my contact will be working towards a united front and trying to get this country back together?"

"Yes, Roger. What other choice do we have?"

"Rumors, Charles. Gotta get them under control before it gets too out of hand."

"You do that. In the meantime, might you conclude your tour? I am sure it has been satisfactory."

"Of course." Roger put the fire out. "I'll get some water from the kitchen, review some things and head out. What do you need me to do otherwise?"

"I would think Danielle Mitchell last in line to rescue," Hank said. "Storm and Matthew seem trivial to Ellis. I would get them out of there as soon as possible."

"Get Jean and Scott too," Xavier urged. "Alex and Lorna and her family too. I cannot argue your point. Alex cannot stay the way he is without being seen eventually."

Roger nodded. "Logan?"

"What?" Logan uncrossed his arms once more.

"Need anything from me?" Roger teased.

"Find me Chameleon and send him here," Logan offered.

"What?" Hank was alarmed and exchanged a glance with Xavier, who was feeling the same way. "Why?"

"Might give us some answers, much more than Roger has." Logan seemed determined on this route, something that Xavier could not blame him for as he knew where Logan was going with the request. "Don't care how long this takes. Just get me Chameleon before we get out of here and I'll work it out from there."


	8. Deep in the Night

Deep into the night and without being watched this time, Danielle sat by her window, a cradle at her feet and a sleeping baby inside. While still cold outside and wrapped in a blanket she made (maybe about forty degrees and dropping), she had it opened slightly to let some air in, the lights from the guards around her shining in her face and reflecting into her reddening eyes that did not want to change back to hazel. She did not care if they saw her as a mutant or not anymore since everyone knew and it was an open secret anyway. Somehow, it all didn't matter anymore. What did matter was that she, as well as Michael, were large targets and it's won't be just from those who were angry with Leon. On the other hand, she did not know how Leon saw them as so threatening, but they were…and worse than ever before.

Leon felt betrayed and defeated, Danielle knew. The week before, when she learned that Michael most likely had mutant powers, she wanted to rejoice and cry at the same time. Her son, who looked like her mostly and stole her heart when he was born, was just like she was. He was different, dissimilar to his father in every way, and most likely to be punished for it. Indeed, being with her had seemed like that to Michael although he hardly knew it, being the son of a dictator now hidden from the public like her. After recovering from the stabbing and miscarriage on the nursery floor, Leon had given Danielle sole custody of their son and said nothing more. Despite being taken away for testing several times a day, Danielle had Michael all to herself. Every day, she would feed him, bathe him and play with him, washing Mary's influence off of him. At five months old, Michael was already trying to sit up and always smiled at Danielle, laughing when they played games together.

Most days, if Mary did not take Michael away or Leon did not need Michael for his own purposes (mostly for the media outside, to pretend that all was well), Danielle did not feel the same anxiety she did when Michael was in the nursery and took advantage of each new day with him. It was something she always dreamed about, although she was disappointed that Leon was not giving Michael the same opportunities he deserved. Despite that nagging feeling, her days had been more enjoyable, although the worries remained. The sadness from her miscarriage was still in her mind too, pestering her about the dangers sure to come in the future. Shuddering, she wrapped the blanket tighter around her, reaching over and ensuring that Michael was still warm. He was, his tiny face snuggled underneath an innocent security that Danielle could not offer him. That was all that she cared for now, his safety and his life.

Danielle then looked to the sleeping form on her bed and one that was about to wake up soon, she sensed. Poor, sad Ororo, Danielle declared to herself. She had been sent to Danielle earlier in the day by Peter and Mary, the two of them glad to be rid of her for now. Apparently, they did not have the time to watch her (going to Hawaii for a vacation and all). They were tired of her crying fits and preferred that Leon kept her under his eye and eventually beat it out of her. Danielle knew the truth as soon as Ororo was locked in the bedroom with her, her powers already jumping back in time to see it. After her capture on that fateful June day almost two years ago, Ororo had been led in chains to Peter and Mary's opulent home across town, away from the chaos. For over a year and a half, while Mary was paying more attention to Danielle's pregnancy and then to Michael, Ororo had been Peter's favorite toy to play with. Sedated and chained to a bed in the far corner of the house, Ororo had been humiliated, most of the time when Matthew was watching. That cousin of Danielle's had been transferred from prison to Peter at the time, tied to a wall like an animal as he observed with agony how the woman he loved was torn to pieces and raped.

Matthew's new fate was now a mystery. As soon as Ororo came to Danielle, she knew that Matthew had been swept under a rug once more, disappearing to who knew where and why. Danielle somehow wanted the knowledge, if only to comfort her friend and say that all would get better and they'd live a good life, and would never receive it, even if she asked her husband or Peter. Leon ensured that she would never come out of her room again unless it was for official purposes that would require her presence. Even then, ever since she saw Jean that same night she lost her second baby, no information had been forthwith. Danielle was as ignorant as the day she was born.

Back to gazing out the window, Danielle decided that it was worth it to break the rules and to be herself, if only to feel alive again. Without the guards outside seeing, she used her hands to create a small silver and blue ball. The mist whirled in her hands, covered by the spotlight's blinding reflection. Relief flooded through her and then sought Jay out without success. However, it had been relaxing to once again use her powers, a forbidden activity that Leon had deemed imperfect and totally inappropriate as his wife. He always threatened to test the limits of Danielle's powers though, to see if he could kill her or Jay, but it had yet to happen. However, this exile was a slow death. That much Danielle was sure of.

When she finally heard noise from the bed, Danielle was up, the blanket discarded. Pulling the cradle closer to the large bed and away from the window, she hopped on and wrapped her arms around Ororo from behind. She heard her older friend sniffle in what appeared to be the end of a nightmare and then was shoved away. She hardly blamed Ororo for pushing her away and wanting to be left alone though. However, Danielle wasn't letting go. She had learned the hard way that it was wrong to run away from your problems and not allow anyone to help. She only had to remember Vinnie Paul to have that lesson nailed into her. Vinnie had been so nice to her, friending her and eventually moving forward to a solid relationship. Soon though, Danielle had heard of other women who fell into his gaze, but ignored it and went on with the affair anyway, just wanting to have a little fun. It wasn't until after Logan caught her that everyone knew of her problems, of what Vinnie did to her and why she ran away. Afterward, it had taken some time to recover and then realize that Vinnie, as well as his friends, disappeared.

 _Oh, Logan._ Danielle closed her eyed tightly, holding Ororo in the same manner. She suspected Logan of killing Vinnie (with maybe Roger and Jay too, knowing the trio well), but that hardly seemed like a problem now. Ororo was.

Without admitting too much, Ororo rolled over in Danielle's waiting arms and returned the embrace, feeling trapped. She was wide awake now and aware that Danielle was trying to comfort her. She did not care that Danielle was there, although it was nice to see a familiar face. What had been important was being safe and away from that monster, Peter Ellis. His wife would not believe her when she said that Peter had been raping her and with Matthew watching, tortured and screaming at Peter to stop. No, mutants lied and that was that. That was the new belief in this new age.

"Storm, it's late," Danielle began, unsure of what else to say. The Professor would be better at it than she would. "Go back to sleep."

"Can't," Ororo replied, her face buried in Danielle's clothed shoulder. "How's Michael?"

"Sleeping." Danielle felt Ororo's horrid nightmare seep into her mind, but she stopped it before she delved deeper. "He's fine. I'm sure he'll be ok until Leon comes for him again and decides that it's fun to hear him cry. The final tests are tomorrow. They'll declare him a mutant or human then."

"I am sure he's like us."

"I am too, Storm. It doesn't make me less nervous though, knowing that Michael's future has been changed and Leon is so indifferent to him. What if…you know…what if Leon kills Michael and then us, just because my son is not human?"

"Then, that's something we need to deal with when it comes. I'd rather welcome it. There's nothing for me now."

"Storm, we don't know if –"

"Matthew is dead. I just know it, Danielle. He's lost his family, he's lost his sanity and he's lost his humanity. He's _gone_. Even if Peter Ellis doesn't get to him, he would find a way to kill himself."

"I cannot accept things I do not see and feel. Matthew is stronger and quicker than you think. He can get out of anything and would continue to live."

"Once someone goes onto that dungeon, they don't come out. That's what you do not understand, Danielle. _Matthew is dead._ "

"He is no dead, Storm. I can reassure you of that. I can understand what it feels like to be taken away from the person you love. You, all of people, should remember that day. You were also there when Logan and I…"

Danielle allowed it to trail from there, although her convictions were right about Matthew. She just did not want to mention Logan's name out loud again. They were being recorded and taped surely, but what husband would want to hear of his wife's true love and one that he took away from her? Honestly, Leon would not want to listen to her whining about Logan. It would compound problems and cause more trouble, more so than they ever had, and would mean that Leon could lord over her anything. Logan was in Leon's hands too, locked away and maybe a puppet. Anything could happen to him, Hank and Xavier too. _Anything._

Ororo lifted her head from Danielle's shoulder and settled it on a pillow. "I know, Danielle. You don't need to remind me. At least someone said something to you. Matthew cannot even tell me what he feels. He isn't that type of person. He's danced with me, pushed me away from his protests and even kissed me once. Just _once_. However, the pain you can see in his eyes, when he sees suffering and he gets angry…it isn't something that you can easily forget. It's almost like his father's, so dark that you can get lost in them. It's vengeful and hateful."

Danielle did not like hearing about Matthew like that. "Peter is vengeful and hateful, Storm. My cousin is not."

"You hardly saw him, Danielle. He's chosen to stay away from everyone since his family was killed. He can't afford to get close to anyone."

"No. I cannot believe this of my own cousin, even though I have not seen him much in years. He has honor and will defend anyone. He will not hate a person nor extract revenge if he does not need to."

Ororo shook her head. "Danielle, you cannot deny everything forever. You're a mutant, covered by pretty makeup that creates an illusion for a husband that lusts you, not loves you. What would you know of reality?"

"Plenty," Danielle automatically replied, her chin raised in defiance. "More than you'll ever dream of."

The two decided to leave it there, their faces etched with stubbornness. Arguments were a part of their discussion at this point and there was no time for that, especially when they were being listened to and they had said enough to get them condemned. Instead, the two pulled apart. Ororo sat up, keeping her back to Danielle, and picked at her already bloody cuticles. She forced herself not to stare at the door and await Peter. It was a habit she needed to break, she resolved. Danielle may know of many things, but she did not need to know of her pain. She also did not need to understand the depth of the troubles they truly were currently in.

Danielle saw the rejection. She too turned her back to her friend and edged towards the end of the bed, eying Michael with worry once more. Yes, he was still asleep, his baby dreams content for the time being and his face smiling. Danielle smiled too, rocking the cradle gently and wishing that she was at that age and not full of knowledge that the people of the country hated mutants and that she would forever be hated for it.

Satisfied that Michael was safe for now though, Danielle got back to the bed and tried to lay down to sleep. However, she found it hard to close her eyes to a peaceful slumber, especially with Ororo so agitated and constantly getting up and pacing. Instead, she decided to lay on her back and stare at the ceiling with all of the stars constellations that she managed to place there, hands behind her head. There was innocence in that gesture and Leon surely would not complain. Indeed, he could not tell her that she was a disgraceful woman that did not deserve his love, being who she is…

By the time dawn came, Danielle still did not get any sleep and did not feel tired enough for a nap anyway. By then, Ororo had settled into a large chair and was asleep and Michael woke up for his morning feeding. Danielle obliged him, using her formula and cereal supply to make the concoction with water left behind from the previous day. She then held Michael tightly once more as he ate, stealing glances from him to the window and back again, trying to avoid the inevitable. Today was the day surely. Leon was going to find out whether or not their son was human or mutant.

At seven in the morning, almost like clockwork, the guards knocked loudly on the door and entered without permission, taking Michael out of Danielle's aching arms. He screamed for her, his voice echoing through the room like he was next to her, and it continued even after the men wordlessly left and locked the door behind them. When the door slammed shut, Ororo woke up. Immediately, she saw the despair on Danielle's face and went to her, holding her without speaking. Danielle returned the sentiment, the two of them staying that way for hours, even when breakfast and lunch was served. The food untouched, they stared at the door for hours and waited for Michael to come back. Eventually he did, but it wasn't until the sun was setting and when the guards seemed a little more sympathetic than most times. With relief, the two detangled themselves. Danielle took the baby from the guard who brought him back and smelled him, not caring that everyone was watching as they departed and that they were locked in again. Her baby was back. That was all that mattered.

"Do we know yet?" Ororo asked, the first words said in what seemed like forever.

"Let me see." Danielle put Michael in the crook of her arms and studied him for a minute, trying to figure out if he was declared a mutant or not. When she traced her finger on his face, she felt what she feared and felt her stomach drop in dread.

Leon had tattooed an M on Michael's forehead. He was now a known mutant.


	9. The Mercenary Speaks

It wasn't until the beginning of February that Roger was to deliver Logan's request. While they had been keeping their heads down and acting like they were really prisoners still, the three remaining at the mansion still hoped that the master spy would come through, strange as the request was. Hank and Xavier thought it odd that Logan asked for Chameleon and accepted it, thinking it might work in their favor. After all, the old Vietnam veteran was a mercenary for hire and would do anything for anybody. Right now, he could be dissatisfied with Ellis and want him gone. It was a matter of meeting with him and ensuring that he was on their side.

Indeed, Xavier did not sense Chameleon's promising presence until that morning while he was in his office. While he usually would have had the youngest students celebrate the silly holiday of Groundhog's Day, that day he was now writing in his office, more so than ever before about the former students he used to teach and the study into their powers. Putting his pen down momentarily and peering up, he swore he felt a person was in the same room and soon found out who it was. Yes, he had locked Logan and Hank out of his office for hours and would not allow them in. It was something different when someone else managed to get in undetected and then stood before him boldly, invisible and full of triumph. That alone set off his mind's alarms, although it was not negative… _yet_. He smiled though, appearing in every way not to be startled that Chameleon had managed to get in.

"It's been a long time, Chameleon," Xavier started, taking away the element of surprise for the veteran. He also wanted to play stupid. "How can we help you today?"

Chameleon soon appeared with a shimmer, leaning against the office doorway and looking bored and disinterested as he played with a bloody hangnail on his thumb. He was much older than when he was last seen, Xavier noted (more in appearances than age), and much distressed, perhaps by recent events. The long wild red hair and eyes that characterized the Vietnam veteran two decades before were gone. In its place was short white hair in a crew cut fashion, hollow hazel eyes and a slumping body. He was defeated and depressed, Xavier thought, but not down for the count yet. If he knew Chameleon well, the man would be out hunting still, taking his time to catch his prey and soon assassinate them with a single bullet to the head.

"Has age made you so soft, Charles?" Chameleon asked in return, still glancing at his thumb as more blood pooled around the cuticle with his inane ministrations. "When I first met you, you had been interested in dealing with the CIA and making the world right by showing that mutants were harmless. Now, you're in a prison in your own home from the same government who initially embraced you and was interested in your so-called magic tricks. What's changed? What made you stay here and not be on the front lines?"

"I believe you know the answer to that question." Xavier shuffled his papers to one side, hiding them from the mercenary before more inquiries were made. "You still have yet to answer mine."

"You should know that someone sent me here," Chameleon replied stiffly, fishing into his coat pocket for something. He came up with a rare cigarette, holding it in-between his fingers and twirling it absentmindedly. "A certain Canadian rogue wanted to see me, as I understand it."

Xavier nodded. "Yes, I do. You would mean Logan, I would assume?"

"Yes. I've seen him around, mostly in that damned living room of yours. He care to join us?"

"It would depend. Would this be private or are we privy?"

"Well, since you all are talking with Firebird, I guess it would be good to have all of you present."

Xavier would not believe his luck. He had not dealt with Chameleon in years and when he did, and it was very few times before he disappeared, Chameleon was always coy, defensive and very mysterious. He always managed to keep his true intentions away from Xavier (much the same way Magneto did), was very distrusting and combative when he could afford to be. Now, toned down from years of being on the run, Chameleon seemed to be changing and it might be to their benefit. He had worked for Ellis with Teller for years without saying a word and not showing that he was a rebel like his friend the bar owner. Logan did not see or hear from him much, Xavier recalled, and when he did, Chameleon was about the same and always fairly drunk. However, with him so sober and serious, now might be their only chance. Xavier was going to take anything he could.

Carefully and keeping an eye out on Chameleon, Xavier pressed his intercom button on his desk, hoping that Hank was nearby on the other end of one somewhere in the mansion. It took a minute or so, but Hank answered Xavier, out of breath and asking what was wrong. When explained that they had a visitor in the office and that Logan was needed, Hank replied that he would be there momentarily. When releasing the call, Xavier smiled again at Chameleon. The sentiment was not returned, although Chameleon did put his unlit cigarette back in his pocket. Xavier felt relieved, happy that he did not have to remind Chameleon of the school rules of no smoking inside the mansion. It was enough that he had to remind Logan constantly.

The two did not exchange any conversation either. Xavier thought it easier that way, hoping that he did not have to wait long for Hank and Logan to join them. Chameleon was on the same page though, moving from the door to a chair before Xavier's desk, glancing here and there at the rare pictures that Xavier planted on his private space. There wasn't much because Xavier liked to keep his life so private, finding that it was intimidating for the children to ask him questions anyway since they could not imagine him younger. Chameleon glanced at them with the same disinterest he had before, although Xavier noted the inner fascination.

There were only three pictures to begin with, all of them so significant in Xavier's life. One had been of himself with his mother before she sent him back to that boarding school in England (something his father wanted of him before he died), the distance obvious between them by the stern look on her face and the longing in his. The second had been of himself and Raven – now Mystique – when they were young adults, soon to be going to that university in England. The last had been a casual picture before the events in Cuba, of himself, Magneto, Mystique, Sean, Alex and even Hank. Moira had been missing from that particular shot, he recalled, because she decided to take the picture. She never had been one for pictures, he mused, as he remembered that wonderful woman…

Soon, the office door opened quite quickly and almost unexpectedly. Hank and Logan entered, both of them seeing Chameleon immediately. While the mercenary hid his interest in the pictures, he did turn stoically to see the pair. Logan closed the door behind him, standing in the same position Chameleon was in when Xavier noticed him, arms crossed defensively and eying Chameleon with suspicion. Hank took the other seat before Xavier's desk, apologetic as he shrugged his shoulders, his eyes on Logan for a minute, as if to explain their tardiness. Xavier deduced that Logan was not willing to leave his sanctuary yet, even though he was earlier willing to talk to the one person they would not normally ask for. Logan was becoming more and more of a recluse, a caged animal that paced constantly. It worried Xavier, but that would be another day to explore. The focus was now on the Mitchell father.

"Firebird has explained to me a daring plan and one I think will work little by little," Chameleon began, his voice directed to all present. "He did pass on that he was spreading rumors. The country is in shambles as it is, with it so divided. We know Ellis is very strong here in this town though. His presence is everywhere. However, although Salem Center is a hotbed of support, the rest of New England and New York does not seem that way."

"How do you figure?" Hank asked. He always thought that most of the US was for Ellis with little pockets of discontent that did not want to show themselves.

"Most wanted to segregate their little asses from the US to begin with," Chameleon pointed out. "In the far north near Canada, in Maine, Vermont and even New Hampshire, there are always people who want to live their own lives. This is the chance they'll never have again. To be their own country, with no rules and the leadership shared by the people, would be ideal. It's united in a fashion and something we can control."

"Being in charge of a people already divided isn't quite ideal," Hank replied. "What is that turns against us?"

"With a common cause, it won't be." Chameleon grinned grimly. "Ellis is the name of the game. His destruction is the goal we have as a team."

"Who do you have planned as a puppet?" Xavier was curious. If Chameleon was thinking of the people, then he had someone in mind to lead them with him pulling the strings.

"Me? Installing a puppet with me as the master? Never." Chameleon gave a sheepish grimace, indicating the opposite. "I was thinking we'd all still work as quietly as we can and then work on who heads this place later on. Someone is sure to come up. We'd be asking for trouble if we do leave it in the hands of lawless people."

"And then what?" Logan growled. He was not liking what he was seeing and hearing.

"In order to get big, you need to start small," Chameleon stated plainly. "You should know that."

"You see to have more in mind," Logan pointed out himself. He did not seem to trust Chameleon the way he was planning things out and regretted asking Roger to have him over.

"I'm gonna need help gathering all the people we can." Chameleon seemed to be linking this statement to something Roger said the month before, Logan suspected. "Now, there are kids out there…mutants kids and teenagers…that are being picked up as we speak. Firebird has one in hiding with him. He probably told you that already."

Xavier nodded once more. "Yes. He mentioned that the person was sent from Russia."

"You got it. Now, Colossus is a pretty tall, hefty guy to begin with, able to turn his body into pure metal. Sent here from Russia because things were worse there, family wanted him to have a better life…you know that drill, a sob story for all. Sadly, they realized too late that he was heading into a worse political situation and that they sent him illegally. They couldn't exactly bring him back home without getting into trouble themselves. Now, Firebird has been keeping track of people coming in and out of the country. He caught this one quickly and has been hiding him in one of the many safe houses around here. Figured it would be great to house him here when the time comes and when you agreed. Firebird saw some hesitation last time."

"It would be a good idea now, I believe. We can train him."

Hank and Logan turned to Xavier in disbelief. "Charles, you can't be serious," Hank protested. "It might a mouth too many and I don't mean food. We also can't be seen training someone, especially at a time like this."

"And it's a way to rebuild ourselves and in here and now," Xavier argued. "Hank, I am not asking you to remind me that we are in danger everyday. I am asking that you indulge me in this. We cannot afford to be alone with Roger's men protecting us."

"You can't anyway," Chameleon added. "Ellis is grasping at straws. The more people in here, the merrier the fight will be."

"And it might be best to train when we can." Xavier did not need to recall what would happen if Ellis caught them again. They were lucky with just be under house arrest now and Ellis so kind to keep this alive.

"Anything from Canada? Logan then asked, trying not to think of the worst case scenario when it came down to more people in the mansion. The idea to bring everyone over the border seemed bold and he wondered what Chameleon had on it.

Chameleon bristled with the question. "Offer still stands, as far as I am aware. I don't know if you've heard anything or not, but Ellis has sent whatever forces he managed to go up north. Now, Logan, as you've personally experienced, that far up this time of year has temperatures down below zero. Since Ellis is very ill prepared for the weather, he already has hundreds dead because of the cold. It's something that the Canadians have against him. Down south, in Mexico? Ellis isn't that brave yet. Drug lords from over that border are already massing. How long do you think we have?"

"Not long when they cross." Hank shook his blue head.

"What is the plan of freeing the human camp in New Jersey? Xavier needed that information too.

"Firebird is working on sketching out the lax security," Chameleon revealed. "He has already the perimeter of the compound in his head and the means to get through it. As far as I can see with my scouting, it's not as tight as people think it is. Peter Ellis isn't so great with his power and likes squandering it on people who don't help him. Just another clink in the corruption wheel. Anyway, the camp is headed by his wife for the most part, who hardly steps foot in there, so it's given to some Ferris guy who used to work for Trask Industries. Youngest brother who everyone spoiled. He just drinks and has women around, like the Ellis men, and ignores the people in the camp. The real guy in charge of the guards keeps some stability, but doesn't have all his marbles gathered in his pockets, if you know what I mean. Prisoners have been escaping in droves, although some get recaptured. It'll be easy to get the rest once we see the schedule patterns. Firebird wants to give it another two weeks before planning anything out and maybe months before we do anything about it."

"I understand." Xavier nodded once more.

"We would need some help," Chameleon stated baldly. "One of you would need to come with us. If Firebird is controlling the security here, then we only have need to manipulate the security tapes. Reports are not that hard to mail out."

"I'll go." Logan wasn't going to let Hank get himself killed. That and the Fuzzball was going to be pretty conspicuous and did not know the route to Canada as well as he did.

Chameleon grinned for what seemed like the millionth time, but this time like the Cheshire Cat. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"Anyway, do we know anything else about any rescue efforts?" Xavier was anxious to hear anything about those. He needed his former students out of there, he just had to!

"Charles –" Hank tried.

"No, let him find out," Chameleon interrupted, raising a hand to stop Hank when he tried protesting again. "Firebird had his contact draw out the tunnels underneath Ellis' mansion in DC. Helps that this one has a good memory and likes playing with the men."

"Do you know who his contact is?" Logan had been wondering this ever since Roger mentioned it.

"I do, but she's asked not to be identified. She feels it best that nobody knows who she is until it's all said and done."

"The end of what bub?"

"Logan," Xavier butted in with a warning tone.

"Oh, Charles, don't worry about it." Chameleon grinned again, but it was very sad momentarily before he changed back into a wall of stone. "I am certain that we will manage to get everyone out. We are working on Alex and his crew. Once was enough to make him move again."

"Where to?" This Xavier wanted the most. It hurt him that he was unable to keep in touch with Alex, Scott, Lorna, Jean and even Peter and Wanda. He suspected that Jean had something to do with it and with Alex egging her on.

"Alaska," Chameleon revealed. "They're near the old base that his parents were stationed at during World War II. Well, his father, I should say, before he met his mother and they married quickly. He currently has his brother and Jean and Lorna and the twins, Wanda and Peter. The location of their mother, Magda Maximoff, has not been verified. Some sources say she's dead, others that she had been captured on the way to the next hidey hole. No matter though, Charles. Alaska is a hotbed of support for Ellis, regardless of who built those walls and manned the new camps being constructed in the northern tundra. They'll be found out, one way or another. Canada would not be an escape if Ellis finds them. Alex has too many contacts in the government that it make the dictator nervous."

"And you? Aren't you a little nervous that Ellis is lording power over you?" Logan suddenly felt anger build up in him. "Don't you care that the person you helped is now married to your daughter and trying to find a way to kill her?"

"Spare me the details, Wolverine. I know what Leon Ellis is doing with my daughter and why."

"And you want to do nothing about it? Allow someone else to torture her? Doesn't it burn you to hear that you don't have the honor?"

Chameleon stood up quickly and soon was in Logan's face. "I care about Danielle more than you'll ever see. I left to keep her safe and hopefully to push Leon Ellis away from her. He saw her when she a toddler and just adored her, imagining her to be his, that child pedophile. Now, she is his wife and there's nothing I can do to change that. Time, as they say, is always on our side. We have to be patient, as Charles as told you several times I'm sure, and wait for our moment. It'll come, Wolverine. It always had. We just need to grab that chance and run with it. So, don't put a guilt trip on me. At least I don't allow the past to bother at me."

Without warning, Chameleon completely disappeared and could not be picked up by any senses, not even Logan's, although he was startled by the vanishing act. Xavier assumed that Chameleon used his powers to become undetected and considered the meeting a good one regardless of what was said and done. He looked up to Logan, who was still in a state of shock, and was about to reprimand him about his outbursts, but decided against it. Instead, he exchanged another glance with Hank and cleared his throat.

"Do you mean to go through with this, Logan?" Xavier asked, aware that the beast inside of Logan was bubbling and waiting to burst. "Are you sure you can do this?"

Logan did not answer. Xavier did not want to probe him, but felt that Logan was very angry. This conversation with Chameleon did not sit well with him and that he was irritated that a father could be so casual about his daughter being in captivity. However, Logan felt that they had to work with the people they did not care for and this was such a case. Xavier felt the same way, although he suspected that Chameleon had to worm his way through to Roger, and almost wanted to tell Logan that they'll be a good ending. However, even Xavier was not that much of a dreamer. This was going to conclude somehow and the ending wasn't going to be pretty.

Hank got up from his seat and took a tentative step forward. "Logan?"

"When can I go?" Logan only muttered, so low that Xavier and Hank almost did not hear him.

"I would wait for word from Roger," Xavier reassured Logan. "Wait for Roger to say the word and go. Go and find them all, Logan. We will await for your return either way."


	10. A Courtship of Civil War

**March 20, 1999**

It was a bitter winter and spring was not coming anytime soon, even though it was about that time of year it should. Then again, it wasn't the greatest season in this place anyway. Alex knew it well, but he ignored the warning signs in his head that told him to stay away from Alaska. He couldn't, feeling like it was a magnet that drew him to the past. This was the last place he remembered his parents, smiling and holding onto Scott as a small baby, before their lives went down in a fiery blaze, he and Scott were separated and he went through jail after jail. He was only a teenager when he was found by Charles and Erik, with a two year old brother and parents who hardly visited or cared at that point. The only reason why he took Scott in was to ensure his safety and to uphold his promise to his father.

"Family is the reason you live," his father had stated many times over. "Without them, you are nothing."

 _I hate feeling this guilt, Dad. Thanks._ Alex tried looking out of the window of their shelter, deep into the wilderness of Alaska, and rubbed the frosted glass. Nothing today except a new storm and supplies being the same (plentiful). A good day, all and all.

Lorna soon joined Alex by the window. She hugged him from the side, knowing that doing it from the back might merit some unexpected reaction, and felt the return embrace. Alex then pulled her to the front and the two gazed out into the beautiful snowy landscape for some minutes before hearing Peter zipping around the kitchen behind them and Wanda yelling at him to stop. The two then chuckled, recalling that both Wanda and Peter had been in close quarters for months and were getting on each other's nerves, and then stopped when Wanda yelled that she heard them. In the glass reflection, Lorna and Alex even saw Wanda using her powers to zap something, the red light bouncing like magic. For all they knew, Wanda could be transforming the cat into a frog and back again.

"Think we should get Scott and Jean up?" Lorna asked Alex. She was afraid of his answer for some reason.

"Scott needs to be chopping wood." Alex's tone suggested that he wasn't pleased that his brother had been in bed with Jean more than helping out. "Big storm coming, we need the heat. I can't do this all on my own."

Lorna nodded in agreement. "I understand, Alex. They're still newlyweds though. You need to give them some small break somewhere."

"When it comes to war, there is no break."

"You surely must have had one somewhere?"

"Not in Vietnam, no."

Lorna shut up by then. Alex mentioning anything about Vietnam was rare. She knew what horrors he experienced and the nights she stayed up with him, to help him cope through the nightmares (and the hangovers in the morning too). Leaving the country after his discharge was another story. He mentioned that he was supposed to be going to a facility where experiments were done with other mutants, but that had been stopped and he managed to go home unmolested. He did not say how or why this happened. Lorna suspected many things, all of them revolving over a certain blue mutant that changed shapes. However, that was another story for another time.

"Why don't I get them up?" Lorna finally suggested, breaking away from Alex and heading upstairs to the second floor without an answer from him. Gingerly, she tiptoed to Jean and Scott's room, knocking on the door before entering.

Luckily, Jean and Scott were fully dressed and sitting on the bed together, guilty of something in every way. They appeared to have been talking softly and Lorna had interrupted them. They stopped their conversation and their eyes turned to Lorna. Jean did not seemed surprised although Scott was clearly annoyed. Something was up though and Lorna was sure that they were discussing it before letting everyone else know. She let it go, looking at Scott.

"Your brother need you to chop wood," she said plainly.

"What? Are you Alex's messenger now?" Scott asked petulantly.

"Scott," Jean warned, putting a reassuring hand on his knee.

"No, I can't blame him." Lorna was annoyed and hid it well, just pursing her lips tightly together to mask her true feelings. "We need some wood for the stove soon. There's a big storm coming. Alex is probably going to try and shovel us out before he's blinded."

"Isn't Peter helping?" Jean seemed genuinely concerned. She didn't like the idea of Alex working alone.

"I would hope so, for his sake. I would so hate to see him outrun by his own sister." Lorna tried relaxing, although it was hard when Scott was staring at her in a manner she would call childish. He was a good leader, she had to admit, and he took charge when Alex was not available or was missing. Personally, he was still a pain in the ass and she would rather see him on the other side of the country than with them.

"All right, how low are we?" Scott wiggle in his seat, anxious to do something. He took Jean's hand from his knee and held it tightly, more protective of her than anything else.

"Enough to last the day, I suspect. Your brother likes the pile when it's taller than he is."

"After we leave here, I think I don't want to see another wood pile, splinters or tweezes again."

"Scott, there aren't too many places where we can run without someone seeing us. Being in the cold climate is saving us now."

"I don't know, Lorna. I feel like déjà vu is happening. I feel like I've been here before and I can't get that out of my mind. Being here makes me feel so angry and helpless and doing the chopping gets me more worked up."

Lorna was dreading this from Scott (Alex had admitted everything before their arrival), laughing to push away the negative. "I think we all feel that way at some point. Come on. You want warmth and breakfast or what?"

"Yeah, I should start on, it shouldn't I?" Scott smiled as he got up and let go of Jean, reminding Lorna why she was so attracted to Alex in the first place. It was that Summers charm. "How cold is it out there?"

Lorna shrugged her shoulders. She had yet to stick her head outside. She usually didn't and it wasn't just because of the cold. She sensed too much metal out there and did not want to attract any attention to their group. While she's had control over her powers for several years now, she still could not resist it when searching for anything metallic. She was drawn to it and something she loved manipulating, something she could not afford to do.

"I would assume at least a coat, gloves and hat," Jean suggested. Scott nodded, leaving her and Lorna alone when he picked up the items, putting them on as he disappeared.

Lorna closed the door immediately behind Scott. "What's going on?"

"Many things," Jean replied evasively.

"Uh-huh. We'll find out soon enough, you know. I don't need to be a telepath to see that something is wrong."

"When we're ready, we'll say something. Now, have you worked out with Alex about moving closer to home?"

This was another thing Lorna did not like. She and her family went into hiding to escape Ellis and Alex went after her, taking Scott and Jean with him in order to stay together as a family unit. Granted, she, Wanda, Peter and their mother weren't really running away yet and were just packing. However, Alex took charge and they managed to get out just before the Maximoff house was set ablaze by Ellis supporters who knew them to be mutants (except for Magda). On the way, they had been ambushed and chased by the military many times before settling down, something that cost them her mother. Lorna was deeply attached to her human mother and was devastated when she was captured. She did not know whether or not she was dead or alive. That was a pain she wasn't going to share with Alex though and one she did not need Jean to know of either.

"No matter what I say, nothing is going to change Alex's mind," Lorna admitted slowly. "He is not going back to New York until things have been settled. I think being chased across the country was enough excitement for him."

"You can't leave everyone there though," Jean protested. "Danielle…"

It was there that Jean trailed, something Lorna picked up on. "We cannot help her, Jean. We can try all the rescue attempts we can, but if Alex isn't budging, we're not going anywhere. Besides, Ellis has her locked away tightly and nobody has been able to see her. One step at a time though. We'll see about Alex."

Loud footsteps were soon heard from downstairs. Both Jean and Lorna were startled when Alex suddenly burst into the bedroom, covered in snow and still wearing his winter gear. He slammed the door shut, his body melting the snow right off. A puddle formed by his boots, reflecting his reddening face which was still cold.

"What's happened?" Lorna demanded immediately.

"Civil war," Alex blurted out. "Heard it from the neighbors. The country is now under civil war."

"What?" Jean could not believe it.

"The so-called rebels have assembled a militia group by the Canadians border in New England and has declared war on Ellis," Alex continued. "They have issued an official statement saying that they have had enough of Ellis and this is not what the country was founded and built on. They have issued an additional statement that, if their demands are not met, then they would use anything possible to topple the regime and reinstate the rightful people and the right government. Their demands just ask for the return of the rightful people in government and the population declared fully equal, humans and mutants, no matter the race, religion and ethnicity. Most of them are taking in the rumors about Ellis and the others involved are truly in the game. Who knows what it true or not?"

"Well, what do we know is the truth?" Lorna was almost dreading to speak the words.

"That Ellis is deporting mutants by the load now that he has three quarters of the country as his supporters," Alex said gravely. "He has a list out of which ones he is sending to the camps, ghettos and labs. He also has wanted signs across the country of those he personally wants. We're next on the list, Lorna. You, me, Jean, Scott and even your siblings. If we're found out, Ellis is ordering us deported to a camp in the middle of nowhere. And since we're named as dangerous mutants, you especially, we're going to end up dead most likely. Unless this militia is able to stop the trains going to the camps and manage to jumpstart the movement, then we're next. We cannot do anything now that Ellis has a bounty on our heads."

~00~

The winter was starting to thaw out, the snow from the months before dripping from the roof and creating icicles as long as the guards were tall. As Danielle's days turned into a monotony and her focus was spent so much on Michael, she did not care much for what was going on in the outside world, not even if there was a battle some miles away. She and Ororo were just content being stuck in the bedroom alone, being watched through the cameras and listened to on the microphones and being with each other. However, by the middle of March, when they thought they would be left alone, her bedroom door was suddenly yanked opened and the guards flooded in, one of them putting a sack over her head before she could do or say anything. From there, she was picked up, protesting all the way, and taken away as Ororo screamed that she would take care of Michael.

The next thing Danielle remembered, the sack was taken off of her head and she was sitting on a low stool in a damp cell. She knew where she was. She just could not remember how and why she ended up in the basement level of the mansion, where everyone is questioned and most never come out. She glanced around nervously, not daring to use her powers, and wrapped her arms around her body. It was cold down here, she knew, and she wasn't allowed to bring a jacket or sweater to keep some of the shivers away. She was still barefoot too, the water on the cement floor seeping into her toes like tentacles. She shivered, waiting to see what would happen next. Oh, it did not take long to figure it out though and that seemed to be the problem. Peter waltzed right in a few minutes later, clean-shaved, neat and clean. He disregarded the glum and slime beneath his shoes, standing before Danielle with a sneer on his face.

"I am sparing you the details, Danielle, but I need to know the truth," Peter began rather unceremoniously, taking out a thick file from his suit jacket. "You care to tell me about the Black Serpents?"

"The _what_?" Danielle wasn't following along.

Peter slapped Danielle in the face. "The Black Serpents, you little bitch. They are terrorizing most of New England and the states next to them. They're headed by your favorite person from Xavier's school, Roger Mortimer, the same man who has been hijacking food trucks, supplies and other essentials needed for this nation."

"I swear, I don't know anything." Danielle rubbed her face to quiet down the sting, wondering if Leon had sanctioned this. "I have been sitting in my room, as you've seen and heard, with my baby and Storm –"

"Ororo," Peter interjected in a mocking manner.

"Fine, fine…Ororo. Regardless, we have not been seeing anyone or taking any messages."

"And your powers? You think my men don't see you playing?"

"How can I find someone and communicate without knowing where they are? There's only one person who is powerful enough to do that and he's been locked away."

Too late, Danielle realized her mistake in naming Xavier indirectly. However, she did not think that Peter caught it. He was a stupid and lazy man and was already in a daze. He wasn't thinking beyond the facts in front of him and it was something Danielle could take advantage of. Already, he was visibly pondering about what Danielle said, but not in the way she expected from what she could sense outwardly. He thought that she meant the mutant was jailed or dead. That was fine for now, she thought, but it was not enough to get the information she wanted. Who were the Black Serpents really? And why was Peter asking her about Roger Mortimer, who finally made a move and in a group she hardly knew of anyway?

 _Too many questions with so few answers._ Danielle was somehow scared to find out more.

Peter finally stopped and went back into action, even if it felt out of place. "So, you know nothing of this group?"

"Nothing," Danielle reassured him. "I am a loyal subject of my husband and lord. Why would I want to join a group of rebels?"

"Because they are from your hometown and are associated with you," Peter said simply. "You have been in training with Roger Mortimer for some years before your marriage and he has been linked to Xavier's military mutant assembly line."

"Just because Roger Mortimer is a part of my past does not mean that he's a part of the present and future," Danielle argued. "You can't always hold that against someone."

"Well, because you're a mutant, you'll always be suspected. You're all natural liars anyway. Now, care to share anything with me?"

"How many times do I have to say this, Peter? I did know of this group and never communicated with them. I am not making plans with them. Most certainly, I am not plotting against Leon."

Peter regarded Danielle for a minute, giving her that same stupefied glance, and then snapped suddenly. He whistled low, summoning five men to his side in an instant. Danielle counted the odds and saw them maybe evenly matched if she tried hard enough. However, after almost two years of inactivity and her inability to at least exercise her powers physically, there might be no way to escape them. Her heart sank, although she still calculated her next move. Five men plus Peter and little old her…there may be a way to at least soften their blows. Danielle was not dumb. She knew that there was no complete escape from this cell and that they would beat a confession out of her on information she did not possess.

"One last time, Danielle," Peter warned. "Tell me about the Black Serpents and you can go free."

Taking a deep breath, Danielle calmed herself, already noting the weaknesses in the men and Peter himself. "All I see is evil around me, Peter. You want to torture an innocent woman, be my guest. At least you'll still remain a coward."

Peter's face turned red like he was slapped and not Danielle, obviously embarrassed that he was insulted in front of his men. Backing away, he motioned to the five men to go forward and to do their work. As soon as he closed the cell door and ran though, his cronies crawled in closer, almost a circle around Danielle, and their demon-like arms reaching for her as if trying to drag her down into a fiery hell with them.

Flexing her arms and legs, Danielle stood up slowly, waiting for her first chance in a long time to strike, and counted down. _Three, two, one…_


	11. New Life

**October 13, 1999**

Logan had not received word from anyone until the middle of October, when he was finally geared up and ready to go. In the meantime, as the seasons changed and their lives went on as normal, they had gained their first student since the school had been vacated over two years before. By summer, when Ellis was taking a vacation to California without his wife to view the new camps and security had once again turn lax within the mansion, Colossus had arrived. Roger had smuggled him into the mansion in the middle of night, passing his men and the cameras and using the cover of darkness to deliver the young mutant. Xavier and Hank managed to wake up in time to hide Colossus and get Roger out, but enough damage had been done that Peter Ellis sent his own men for inspection within two days. It went well all things considering and Colossus stayed hidden underground. For now, Xavier kept him there, ensuring that he was fed, taught and even had things to do to keep boredom at bay.

Things had been fueling up in the meantime. Before winter even ended, Roger had managed to gather together those who hated Ellis and managed to create a group named the Black Serpents, the freedom fighters that demanded the government restored and this madness ending. They came from most of New England, but also New York too. With their speeches from multiple leaders that drew more and more crowds and their hit and run attack tactics, they managed to take over most of the Canadian/US border in Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont and New York and some pockets of Connecticut, Massachusetts and Rhode Island too. There had been no known director as of yet (mostly Roger, Logan assumed), but Logan noted that they worked together as a team well enough that nobody knew who was in the group and how they garnered so much support. All he knew was that Roger was a sly fox and that he surely would drop in again after his night visit dropping Colossus off.

Word had been scarce about the others too, bits and pieces that managed to seep through to the mansion and make them all wonder what would happen next. From Alex, they heard little. Jean was pregnant with her and Scott's first child. Lorna had managed to find another home in Alaska for them to hide out in, since being near a base was drawing more attention, but their exact location was unknown once more. Wanda had extended her powers to the point where she could hide the house they were residing in from anyone's eyes, just as long as everyone stays inside. Peter was getting better at picking up food, supplies and people, his speed becoming and more and more of an asset when stealing was the one thing they needed. Alex himself…well, he was most likely beside himself with the new baby, moving around in order to keep safe. Logan was sure that their plan on hiding was coming apart at the seams, but they at least were not in immediate danger.

From DC, there was less. The last they heard, Ororo was trapped in the same predicament as Danielle. Peter and Mary Ellis did not bother taking her back to their home as a guest and kept her locked up with Danielle. Logan assumed that the two were watched very carefully and had no way to interact with the other much. He only hoped that Danielle had her son, for rumors also followed behind this that the baby was a mutant and took after his mother. The thought of Ellis hurting his wife and son actually angered Logan, more so than Danielle being out of his reach, and he always thought of ways to get back at the dictator, even as he was training Colossus in the Danger Room and they perfected a toss. When he did daze out, the young mutant reminded him in a thick Russian accent that he was daydreaming again. Then again, Logan was always out of his mind when he thought of Danielle. Seeing her over a year ago had been a balm to his soul, but it was also dangerous, to her and him too. It wasn't just because of Ellis. It was their feelings, twisted and turned around throughout the short period they had known each other.

God, he missed her so much. Even when the call came from Roger that night to head out, Logan's mind was in the clouds about Danielle. The only thing he could hold onto was their last night together, all of it just before Ellis entered and took everyone away. Even after he said his farewells to Hank, Colossus and Xavier and he and Roger waited until the change of the guards happened, he wandered back to the masked party at Teller's all of that time ago, their kisses and how they snuck back to the mansion to his room. They hardly slept, he remembered, and decided that exploring each other was a better idea, although they had done it once before. Logan continued to stay in that faraway world until Roger poked him in the chest with an elbow, whispering that he needed to get his head on straight.

"I'm fine." Logan waved his hand in dismissal, images of a redheaded woman gone from his head. "When we leaving?"

"My car is down the road," Roger explained in a hiss, moving forward with Logan shortly behind him, heading to the gates. "We're heading down to Jersey. We have enough men to get these people to Canada or to the resistance or even home to their families with an option to make a run for it. It's in their hands now."

"Canada still like us?" Logan had to know.

Roger seemed irritated by the question. "As far as I am aware, yes. I haven't heard anything to the contrary. Come on."

Logan growled. He and Roger hopped the gates in a corner the camera did not see and soon were on the other side, freed. The two then took to the shadows, dodging police officers and military personnel that now patrolled the roads around Westchester and Salem Center. Roger soon directed Logan to his car, the license plate most likely fraudulent and going to be changed soon. The two got in, Roger started it and they were off. It was a quiet ride though, the stars above them shining and the moon hardly a sliver in the sky. Long before dawn, after running through several checkpoints and Roger presenting false paperwork, they were in New Jersey and rolling down the next highway. It took much longer than expected to get out of New York totally, but Logan recognized their sharp departure by the smell. This time, it overwhelmed him, enough to make him gag. Roger just laughed it off, rolling up the windows and continuing to drive.

"Still a garbage dump if I ever saw one." Roger chuckled to himself. "Ok, now that we're in the clear, you'll need to know details."

"I was wondering when you'd get to that. So nice of you to leave me in the dark for so long. I was wondering if we were forgotten." Logan sounded very sarcastic.

"Ok, ok, so I was bad in tell you anything. I have a wife, a son and a bar teller to consider, not to mention a couple of cousins that tolerate my presence. Can you blame me for being so busy with them, especially when things are going downhill quickly?"

"Next time, I'd appreciate a heads-up maybe once a month."

"Well, there might not be a next time, Logan, so listen closely. You're good at camouflaging, so you might away with this, although there's no guarantee. Manpower and being indestructible is what we need and you've got it all, although I understand you have limits too. Now, the camp is small, but it has jammed over a thousand people in there. Disease is bad in there and you're immune to it, which is great. All and all, it's not a garbage dump I'd rather not be jumping into, but we have no choice except to get them all out of there. Anyway…small camp. I have people positioned nearby to take charge, although I think it'll be too easy. There's few men left in there and hardly anyone cares about it. Peter Ellis hasn't been paying much attention to this place and people are always escaping. Lately, security beefed up and the prisoner breaks stopped…until now."

"And what are we doing?"

"Going in head-first. Striking when dawn is in their faces."

"So, we're basically charging in blindly?"

"Not exactly. There's a weak wall on one side that we're taking advantage of and that luckily is on the east side. Sun will be in their faces and there are places to hide before we run in."

"Ok, so we _are_ charging in."

Roger sighed in exasperation. Fine. We are charging in. Got the protection for my men for it though and I'm sure we'll lose a few in the process when we run in, either through a slow disease or wounds. I assume you don't need anything and can get out on your own."

"No," Logan replied confidentially, although the old feeling of running back into war overwhelmed him like a shadow. "Just give me a weapon, find me a target and I'll do anything you need me to."

Roger nodded. "I was going to say. My men will get the people out of there. Just attack and move away as many men as possible. This place doesn't have the toys that the mutant camps have."

"Really?" Logan was impressed. For a human camp, one should have expected some sort of security tailored to them alone and not just the regular stuff either.

"Yeah." Roger didn't seem so enthused about it. "This is why it's so easy. Ellis may have the power to run this country, but there's a will and a way to get back at him and one is to go through the corruption on a smaller scale and work your way up."

"And Chameleon?" Logan did not forget their meeting earlier this year. He also had not heard from the Mitchell father either and that was disturbing, mad as he was at him.

"Elsewhere," Roger confirmed. "None of your business for now. All you need to know is that I have him under my thumb and am willing to use him through a prisoner exchange with Ellis if I have to. For all I know at this moment, he's off in the woods playing thumbscrews with someone he picked up because he didn't like their last name."

Oddly enough, Logan could imagine that. "Ok, so I am running in, attacking guards and keeping to the rear?"

"If you want to be the last one out, be my guest. Have a truck with your name on it when you're ready."

"I should feel so special."

"You should." Roger glanced over quickly for traffic before taking an exit off of the highway and slowing down to a stop at a red light. "There aren't too many people I'm annoyed with and like to work with at the same time. Be glad I haven't decided that you are a loose end."

"I burn my bridges," Logan declared proudly, hoping that Roger would believe him.

The master spy just snorted, taking a left-hand turn down a side road. "I'll believe it when I see it," he replied carefully. "There's always a survivor from that burnt bridge out there somewhere, screaming for help as they're drowning, and you'd be there to pull them to shore. Don't fool yourself, Logan. Everyone has a weak point. Yours just isn't here yet."

~00~

He had been so perfect, Jean thought. The little bundle that decided to be born the night before had settled quietly in her arms, content with food and without a wet diaper for now. She could hardly remember the name she and Scott chose for him (she thought it was Nathan), just that they nicknamed him Cable. Indeed, he was like a line, holding on tightly to something. It was what, Jean could not tell yet, but there was something different about him that made him so endearing. He was surely a mutant and one that they would need to hide too.

There didn't seem to be a problem with Cable though and that was the best part. He was so quiet (except when something bothered him, just like Scott) and seemed happy being with people and being the center of attention. Jean yawned, sinking lower into the bed and feeling Cable curl with the movement. She had been up all night and the morning light was hardly on the horizon. On the other side of the bed, Scott was sleeping next to her, exhausted too from staying with Jean throughout the ordeal, but his mind still worked overtime, not really understanding yet that he was a father and that nothing drastic happened during the labor. Just as well, Jean mused. Men…always tired from the slightest things.

Alex seemed happy that all went well too, but he was worried and it wasn't just that people might be on their tails soon. Jean and Scott could swear all they want that the pregnancy was an accident. It didn't mean that Alex was tense about the extra mouth, the health of the new baby and the consequences when they were traveling. Although Jean was sure that she would be able to calm Cable down during an emergency, she was also certain that Alex would do anything to secure the group's safety, killing the baby being one of them. It was something Jean did not relish and it was a situation she dreaded. However, she vowed that it would not happen and that she would die first. She and Scott could not afford their lives to be in danger with another child, but she was willing (as well as Scott) to do anything possible to keep Cable safe.

Lorna soon popped her head around the bedroom door without knocking. Although Jean had to thank for her all of her help in delivering the baby, she still did not want to see the sadness on Lorna's face. Nonetheless, the new mother smiled weakly, motioning that Lorna come in. She obliged, closing the door behind her and sitting on the bed. She then chuckled when seeing Scott, especially when he rolled over to the pile of dirty sheets on the bed (covered in blood and mucus) and snored, his glasses almost askew.

"We're moving out tomorrow," Lorna announced softly, hoping not to wake Scott or Cable up yet. "Alex feels that enough people know we're here and that we need to vacate the premises as soon as we can. He does have a way to carry you and the baby."

"I thought Wanda could make us invisible," Jean argued, tears threatening to come down her face. It was unlike her and she blamed the change in hormones, but that was no matter. Lorna's sister offered to protect them if she could and that promise did not seem to be kept.

"Not for much longer," Lorna confirmed. "There's only so much my sister can do. Her powers, similar to Danielle and Jay, stretches as far as the imagination, and there's only so many people that can remember that there weren't people in this house. That alone is making her very weak. She cannot hold up for much longer and neither can we. We've attracted enough attention with your pregnancy and the neighbors heard you screaming last night. Time to go."

Jean's heart sank. "Where to?"

"Out of Alaska," Lorna said, which made Jean glad. "Alex has word that the borders in Mexico are opening up. The drug lords feel offended by what Ellis is saying about minorities and feel that they need to push back, even if he's not on their turf. They understand that he is trying to get past the wall he had built and run them over."

"I am not surprised."

"I'm not either. However, if Ellis is eying the south and not the north, we can make another escape and run for it. Canada is taking in mutants and doing it quite openly. It's not much warmer, but at least we're safe there and they're fighting Ellis at their own borders. We can stick behind the defenses and live."

Jean looked down at her son and then back up to Lorna. "Truly? You think we'll be safe?"

"I'm sure this time. And I think I can persuade Alex to go if his Summers' stubbornness doesn't get in the way." Lorna hugged Jean gently, making sure she did not smother the baby. "Be patient. It might be an argument or three today, but I am not allowing him to take us further north in US territory. This is ridiculous. He's paranoid and we have more to consider than just us."

"Thank you." This time, Jean really meant it. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

* * *

 **Even though Cable is technically the son of Jean's clone by Mr. Sinister, Madelyne Pryor, and Scott Summers, for liberty's sake, I'm making him Jean's instead. I also understand he was created to defeat Apocalypse, but more on that later, right? ;)**


	12. Prisoners' Freedom

It did not take long for Logan to figure out the situation and assess from there. At about three in the morning, Roger parked the car in an abandoned mall parking lot and they walked the rest of the way towards the camp, about five miles total. On the way though, they were joined by maybe hundreds of more people, all of them clamoring that they were fighting in the name of freedom and getting this country back on its feet. When Roger asked if they knew what they were doing and why, all of them could not say. They just heard that there was a good battle coming and that they wanted to destroy anything that Ellis created.

Roger shrugged his shoulders at Logan. "Ignorant people. Gotta love 'em."

"I thought you said that the rumors were working in our favor," Logan remarked. He did not think about how distorted this gossip really got.

"Yeah, well, some people wouldn't know the truth even if it hit them in the face," Roger replied. "I think it's just good for now that most are angry with Ellis and just want to pick a fight and say they're some good old boys, which makes them good for recruitment into groups. Those with the truth? Those are too few and nobody will believe it anyway."

"You did this on purpose."

"I needed the people, no matter what or how stupid they are. Canada has more intelligent people who know the truth, although most don't want to get involved really. Those who do, which is forced by the government for the most part, kinda want Ellis' head on a silver platter. Ruling the world? Ha! What a concept."

"Any way we can avoid the idiots getting in my way?"

"Well, Logan, just make sure you slice and dice the guys in the uniforms or those who are shooting from the towers. Leave the rest to me. My men will ensure that they don't do anything stupid. We've had this issue before. I've got crowd control completely under my thumb."

"If you say so." Logan was not convinced. "Do we know anyone else in that camp?"

"Fiona Mitchell has been confirmed as a prisoner still and one to be taken away to another location if they are invaded, like today's excursion," Roger recounted. "Uhh, there's Magda –"

"Wait, Magda Maximoff?"

"Yeah, Lorna, Wanda and Peter's mother. She was captured some time ago for political reasons. Ellis thought she was a prize and quizzed her on the whereabouts of Alex, Lorna and the others. She wasn't budging, so she was sent here, news casts all over the place. They had her in solitary confinement for some days before they released her to the general public, except she was on hard labor and not allowed to speak to anyone. They didn't want her talking to anyone about her so-called philosophy and trying to escape, you see, but I don't see the point in it since I'm sure she had ways to speak to someone. Anyway, Logan, she's there."

"Makes me wonder what happened between all of them and how they managed to get back together. Pretty hefty price Alex paid to leave and find them, only to have Magda picked up."

"Yeah, well, after that daring escape from the Pentagon you orchestrated over twenty years ago, things fell apart between the Maximoff family. Lorna eventually changed her last name to avoid being molested by anyone searching for her siblings and to keep eyes off of her. Peter was at the school for a while…don't know if you remember that or not…and he and Wanda eventually went to SHIELD for a while. Well, you know that SHIELD is being shredded to pieces and has been disbanded because Nick Fury went missing again, if you want to call it that. Magda had been wandering for a while and was pretty sick before Lorna found her and eventually helped her find a new home and some help. Say, did you know that Magneto –"

"We're not getting into this paternity fight again, are we?"

"But it's true, Logan. You can't deny it. Magneto even confirmed it."

"I can and I will. I'm not opening old wounds. Now, you're crowd control supposedly and I'm just your wild card, right?"

Roger nodded, upset that Logan figured out his game. "Right."

Logan shook his head, annoyed that he was their secret weapon. By then, he and Roger had reached the top of a hill, where a large group of maybe a thousand people had assembled. Anyone from that camp could have seen them, but none had been interested to meeting them and life went on as always with the occasional glance and some shots their way. Sighing, Logan took his place in the back just as one of Roger's men handed him a gun, allowing Roger the chance to go to the front, check in with his other men and make a speech. It was grand, Logan had to admit, and it calmed most of the hotheaded ones down. He mentioned that Ellis' tyranny had to end and that those people down there needed to be rescued.

Logan had to roll his eyes, now hearing the typical bullshit. He listened closer though because Roger was getting to the important part. There are trucks to take all of them home, to the Black Serpents or to Canada, Roger was saying, and that they would assist them going to safety. The master spy emphasized that last part, which merited cheers loud enough to get more attention from down below and a few more gunshots. Logan only shook his head again, taking out a rare cigar and putting it in his mouth. He lit it quickly, waiting for the signal to move. Finally, just when the sun was starting to lit up the sky enough to blind the other side (and Logan managed to finish his cigar in relative peace), Roger sounded the alarm and they were off.

It took some time before the last line of defense moved, but Logan was soon behind them, running and feeling like a fool. He had done this before. It was a guerilla tactic he learned over a hundred years ago. It worked then and it worked now too, the fence line pushed down immediately just by the sheer force of those running it down. Before Logan knew it, he was meeting guards left and right. He was shot at a few times and he stumbled, but was soon back up on his feet as his healing ability kicked in full force. He ignored everything else, allowing instinct to guide him. A rage built back up in him and soon he was blindly following it, killing left and right.

By the time Logan reached the center of the camp, where prisoners were being led out by some of Roger's men, he acted as a shield, groaning under the weight of one bullet after another. As he stood there though, one prisoner after another ran or were carried out, most of them weak from hunger and/or disease, and all of them well-protected, he had to admit. Logan kept his eyes opened for the two he knew were part of the prison population. He first saw Magda being led to a truck in the distance, but Fiona was missing. He looked around quickly and saw her by the camp's entranceway. She was being led away by some guards who were making a break for it, dragging her with them to ensure she did not leave.

Again, Logan felt that rage. He propelled himself forward, dropping his gun and releasing his adamantium claws. Screaming like an animal, he lunged for the nearest guard and stabbed him. Seeing him disabled, he went for the next one, even as he felt bullets ram into his back once more. Before they reached Fiona, he leapt, stabbing two more men in the process, and covered her with his body, tasting dirt, vomit and garbage as they hit the ground together. Fiona grunted underneath Logan's heavy weight, becoming very still as Logan got up and picked her up. Hugging her closely to his body, he ran towards the improvised exit, where the last of the prisoners had been led.

Logan did not know how many were wounded or dead on their end, rushing to the trucks as he did without stopping and falling a few times after some gunshots bit into his back again. At this point, he did care for the burden he had in his arms, urging himself to move forward faster. What he did hope in his dash was that getting Fiona into the truck and getting her help would ensure her survival after years of isolation. She did not respond to him in the time he carried her though, remaining as limp as a doll.

Just as the last of the lazy gunshots followed him behind his ankles, Logan jumped into the bed of the last vehicle and they were immediately off. Roger met him as the back was closed off, shouting some orders to take Fiona from Logan. Someone did, leaving Logan with empty arms and some metal shells popping out of his body in an alarming rate. By then, he realized that it was over and it had been quicker than he expected. Sitting down at the nearest bench as the remnants of his battle wounds rattled on the floor, he put his head into his hands, finally seeing for the first time that he had blood all over his shirt.

For a strange moment, he thought what Danielle would have thought and that she would be scared to see it. Then, Logan remembered that she wouldn't see him. Not now, not for some time. This made him pity himself for a minute before Roger dared to sit down next to him, two cups of coffee in his hands. He gave one to Logan and sipped his own cup, grinning. The late morning sun reflected off of his dark hair, highlighting some of the silver that grew in abundance this past year or so. In contrast, Logan was as young as he was maybe fifty or so years ago and maybe getting older if this kept up.

"Dropping me back off?" Logan inquired, testing the coffee. Little sugar, non-dairy creamer and very bitter…just the way he never liked it.

"Sure," Roger replied in a chatty manner. "That is, if you want to."

"I kinda need to. Ellis is gonna miss me if I'm not back."

"Oh, we've got some things for you to do."

"If it involved running back into places like that, count me out for now. Today was enough."

Roger shrugged his shoulders. Suit yourself. You can remain isolated in that school…or we can get you out on more occasions."

"Listen, Roger, I came because you needed some help and I felt that I could do something. I don't like Ellis, same as the next person. It doesn't mean I'm going to be killing people all the time. My main objective is to rescue people."

"This is war, Logan, something you've been through. Get used to it. Don't you remember it?"

"Sadly." Logan took out another cigar, his last he recalled, and set his coffee cup down on the seat next to him. He twirled the cigar in his fingers for a minute, debating on smoking it now, when Roger handed him another box.

"Compliments on the house," Roger merely stated, taking another sip of coffee.

"Thanks." This Logan really appreciated, but he hid it in his jacket along with the single one. "You can't keep grabbing me anytime you want to, Roger. You also can't keep bribing me with cigars too."

"Oh, yes, I can. Starting today, I am declaring that this area and the school is ours."

" _What_?"

"I thought it was a good idea."

"I'd say, give it some time. Discuss it with the Fuzzball and the Professor first. Besides, your group seems so…"

"Young? Untested? Unruly?"

Logan picked his cup up again and drank, although he was tempted to throw the liquid at Roger because of how gross it was. "Inexperienced."

"Not my men," Roger declared proudly. "These people we pick up are. I just want to use them to my advantage for the time being. Get one of them to agree to being a leader and call it a day, you know, so that someone and not us is on a platform and we're motivating on a smaller scale. Us…we're underneath all of this, a subplot if you want it call it that, but we're running on a different pathway while they get their heads out of their asses. This way, when the school is truly ours once more, we can isolate it and sneak in some more people to help the process along.

"I've got a list, Logan, and a pretty long one, of mutants in this area and down south too. Still working on the rest of the country, but that's another story for another fucking day. Now, I've got a few in mind for you though. Got one in Boston, another down in Mississippi and one in Chicago. About the same age, maybe twelve, thirteen or fourteen or so. One can run through anything like walls and floors, another can turn anything into ice including himself and the last is pretty interesting. She can absorb mutations and temporarily use them, but she can keep an imprint of it in her mind."

"Sounds good, Roger. When are you planning on kidnapping them?"

"It's not kidnapping, Logan. All of them have run away and all because of Ellis one way or another. They're out on their own, the last one especially, and we're tracking them down through some people we know that have escaped Ellis already and pretty recently too, like Mystique. Either Ellis raided their homes or their parents wanted to turn them in. New laws say that you can exchange your kids going into a camp or ghetto for your life, but you can't have more kids and are watched carefully after you're sterilized. Too much of a risk, you know?"

Logan nodded. "Ok, so do we know where they are?"

Roger saw the determination on Logan's face. "Why do you want to know now?"

"You want me out more often, right?"

"Yes, but –"

"You want to make this area and the school yours, right?"

"Yes, but –"

"Roger, it makes me free to do as I please. I am not under your control. You are not my boss. You are a leader of us at the school, not of your men. Major difference. A leader works with their people. You're the boss of your own hired men and you have enslaved them to your will. You want to make the school your own island? Fine. You're not keeping me under your thumb like an agent. I'll just work with you. Now, this means that I want to work on getting those kids with us and you tell me who has which. You seem to think them as asset. Why?"

"They're known to be sympathetic to us. I mean, what kid doesn't want their life, right?"

"Good enough. Colossus could use the company anyway. Where can I find them?"

"We'll talk about that later, when I discuss plans of the takeover with Charles and Hank. Now, got another rescue mission for you first before we pick up those kids that want to get into a fight. Interested?"

Logan grinned. "Who?"

"Storm. She's easy enough now. Ellis took her away from Danielle and stuffed her back with his cousin. Peter rand Mary are too busy to care and their security is too easy to get past. I'll get a map of the place for you and let you decide how to you want to run it and what people to take. Sound like a plan, comrade?"

Logan's heart sank especially when this did not concern Danielle, but he kept a good poker face even though Roger's tone was sarcastic towards the end. "Sure. Happen to know if Matthew Adams is there?"

"Last, I heard, yes," Roger said gingerly. "We need to tread lightly with him. Ellis wants him gone and made him disappear, although I suspect that Matthew's still raging against the cage and that he's mad with grief with what has happened. Be careful, Logan. You can't run in there and expect open arms to welcome you in."

"Matthew would be an asset to us," Logan argued. "He has intelligence, speed and stamina. He's almost as indestructible as I am."

"And mortal," Roger pointed out. "Whatever, Logan. Just look into finding him then. Just don't let me say I didn't warn ya."

Logan smiled again, tossing his coffee out of the moving truck. "Give me the plans and wait to set us free, I'd say. That's all I want for now."


	13. Departures and Arrivals

Roger dropped Logan off at the mansion later in the afternoon. Parking the truck at a farm just down the road and leaving the survivors to the care of a farmer Roger befriended some time ago, they walked back together, knowing that the cameras would be dimmed enough not to see them coming and going. They greeted the guards cordially, congratulated on a job well done (Logan hardly listened to their cheery words), and went inside with Roger through the front door. Hank had been waiting for them in the foyer, mopping the floor. He indicated that he rather be left alone with his work and not to step on the already-wet spots, but seemed genuinely glad to see the two of them and turned to talk. He was startled momentarily by the blood on Logan's shirt and stopped himself, choosing instead to hide his emotions as he took a towel from the stairwell and started drying the floor with it.

"I don't think I need to ask how well this went," Hank said baldly, continuing his chore.

"No, you can," Roger replied, brimming with pride that he had won this round with Ellis. "We have retrieved more than three thousand humans who had been against Ellis from the beginning. None have died in our hands as far as I know. However, there is better news and I think you'll be interested."

"What?" Regardless of what Roger said, Hank was anxious. He did not look at the pair though, using the cleaning as an excuse to keep the momentum going.

"We've found Fiona Mitchell and Magda Maximoff and they're no longer in custody," Roger announced proudly. "They're both down the road. Magda is going to be searching for her children and Fiona might be here for a while if she lives."

"Do you think it wise to bring Fiona so near to where Ellis might be searching?"

"I thought about it. However, even I am finding that Ellis doesn't like looking under his nose. Besides, the guy down the road will take care of them and bring anyone here that I demand. He also has a storage basement big enough to accommodate more twenty people, which he is taking advantage of. They're all set, Hank."

"You seem so sure."

"I am. I don't think Ellis is going to appreciate that I am staging a takeover of New York and the rest of New England though."

Hank appeared as shocked as Logan was at the news. "You aren't."

"I am," Roger declared without flinching, although he expected Hank to hit him to snap him out of his ambitious plans. "This place will turn back into a school and become a base of operations for the takeover."

Hank turned to Logan, the floor drying ceased for now. The latter shrugged his shoulders, showing that he tried talking to Roger about it for the time being, and stayed quiet. Logan did not like the idea of Roger trying to liberate the school and suggested keeping it mum for a while longer, irritated that Roger mentioned it to Hank like he was doing it now. Although Logan liked the freedom this house arrest offered, he did not think Ellis would appreciate having another fight on their hands. And again, if they're caught, Ellis might not be so generous. In that aspect, Logan likened it to prisoners of war scheming to escape. It was easier to keep it under wraps and not declare your intentions, although it was up to everyone to escape and run back to their own lines. In this case though, their runaway plan was going to be the freedom of everyone.

"You can't be doin this now," Hank protested at Roger. "Not when we've got so much going on."

"We have a lot going on anyway," Roger pointed out. "You all decided that it was time to liberate that camp. Now it is and you want to back out now? No. Logan thinks we should wait."

"We need to," Logan urged.

"We might," Roger continued like Logan had not said anything, "but at what cost? We can see what Ellis wants, see how important he feels we are, and continue on like always. For how long though? And why? If we declare our intentions now, we might get the chance to plow forward."

"I tend to go with your plans, Roger, but in this case, I think I agree with Logan." Xavier emerged from a side hallway and stopped before the master spy. "Stall for a week. It might take that long for Ellis to see the damage and give him little to do about it. He might be more vengeful if we do it now."

Roger pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling surrounded, and huffed. "All right, all right, Charles. I'll give it seven days. No more than that though. We have people here who need our help."

"I've heard about Fiona," Xavier said crisply. "How is she?"

"Alive, thanks to Logan." Roger's face turned dark. "My friend tells me that she isn't expected to live though. Our new friend down the road said if she can make it through the night, there's a small chance she won't die anytime soon. Woman has been starved, beaten and raped for six long years, Charles, and she hardly recognizes where she is and why. She has been blindly following whoever for who knows how long. It's going to take some sort of Christian miracle to make her breathe into life again."

Hank snorted. He believed in science, not religion, and tended to agree with Roger concerning what he called mystic magic tricks. "Anything I can do? You say your friend down the road is all set, but you're also not sure if Fiona will live."

"You think you can make Fiona breath, Hank, be my guest."

"Roger, that's not what I'm asking."

"You really want to bring her here, even though it might be dangerous?"

Hank nodded. "I would think her safer here than me walking down the road. We can hide her the same way we do with Colossus. Besides, she'll be where it is familiar and that can jog her memory and help her recover."

"I agree." Xavier nodded too.

"What is this, a nursery?" Roger remained a little pessimistic despite his mind racing with all sorts of other rash plans. "Ok, ok, let me see if Fiona is able to be moved. If so, she'll be here. At least she'll be out of the way before we're able to tell Ellis who is in charge and what we're doing. Fine. Otherwise, next week, if all is well, we're set on this takeover."

"How many people will be able to secure the area?" Xavier was curious.

"Oh, maybe a few thousand people." Roger wrinkled his forehead, trying to calculate the numbers in his head. "Maybe…I don't know…fifty to fifty-five thousand people from all across seven states."

"That's more than a few thousand by my standards." Logan was amazed by the number nonetheless.

"Small for me, but no matter. It'll be enough for our means." Roger waved his hand in dismissal. " _However_ , if Ellis means to strike sooner than we expect, I would need to counter him sooner than a week. Charles?"

"If it keeps everyone safe, then yes," Xavier decided. "We cannot risk our lives again."

"Of course. Now, I'll go check on Fiona to see if she'll be ready to move anytime soon, if ever." Roger sounded sarcastic. "Be back later. Don't get into anything I would do. Now, Charles, got three more students for you. Logan said he'd pick them up if Mystique doesn't get to them first."

"When?" Xavier's heart jumped when hearing about his sister Raven (Hank was even surprised), but he was not shocked that she managed to escape. All they need to hear of was Magneto, although he too was as much of a survivor as they all were.

"When Storm has been picked up," Roger confirmed. "More on that tonight. Logan will be in charge of that."

And with that, Roger was gone. In his wake, he left Xavier more hopeful for the future, Hank with a wet floor (and wistful for Mystique's return) and Logan astounded. All of them seemed to feel that a chance was coming and that it would be the only one they would be able to grab. That much they all wished for.

~00~

Anna Marie sat near her small campfire, arms around her knees as she sank to the mossy earth in dismay. It had been days since she had seen her family and days since she had been able to figure out what to do with her life. To be honest, she was best rid of everyone anyway, staying in that boring hippie town and all, but she was scared for herself and for them as well. She did not know where she was, how she got there or anything else. All she remembered was that she had managed to escape a raid on the community she used to live in and that she had to run far away. When she focused, rubbing her arms with her hands in front of the yellow and orange flames, she started piecing together the past few years and what had led her to this moment in the woods, far away from her only home.

There had been nothing extraordinary about Anna Marie's life or anything that would indicate that she'd be a mutant and a fugitive. Her parents seemed like normal people, marrying early in their relationship and heading to a back-to-nature hippie community somewhere in Caldecott County, Mississippi, a place where Anna Marie was born and raised in. As an only child, she was able to get away with everything and anything, from pranking the elders to staying up way past her bedtime, even though there was school with the other kids in the morning. In the meantime, as her parents ignored her more and more and draw their attentions elsewhere, her mother's sister, her beloved Aunt Carrie, came to the rescue. It was then that Anna Marie started to be disciplined, although she grew to still be rebellious on the inside.

In the meantime, events outside of their close-knit circle were soon inching closer and threatened to destroy them on, on the inside and out. When Anna Marie was a child, she learned about a man named Leon Ellis, who rose through the government ranks and started preaching about the evils of mutants and how humanity was imperfect with them in it. She knew all about mutants. There were many of them in the community school and all of them had been ridiculed in some fashion, although they had been taught acceptance, tolerance and equality. She just did not think that she would join their ranks though, soon manifesting powers when her crush, a kid in her class named Cody Robbins, reached over to her in the school hallway and kissed her on the lips.

It was a wonderful moment, Anna Marie had to admit, but it soon came to an abrupt and terrifying end. Before Anna Marie knew it, as their kiss intensified into something more, Cody's skin started wrinkling and he started turning a different color, from red to blue to white and everything in-between. Finally, moaning and rigid as a corpse, he moved away from her, dropping to the tiled floor as if he was dead. He did not move for several seconds (neither did anyone else, Anna Marie remembered) and was soon twitching. That was when hell broke out and everyone, including Anna Marie, was screaming for help.

While Cody had been in a coma at the local hospital for several weeks and did not come back to the commune in fear of being kissed again, it left Anna Marie a loner, segregated from everyone except the group of mutants, even those she thought were her friends. Seeing this, especially in the wake of her sister's disappearance and her brother-in-law's irresponsible deeds that exiled him, Aunt Carrie again took Anna Marie under her wing and decided that homeschooling was now the best option. From then on out, as the government moved in on their home and threatened them many times over the years, Aunt Carrie protected her niece from all perils, even going as far as keeping newspapers out of the house and the TV permanently turned off. She even went as far as dressing Anna Marie where none of her skin showed and did not allow contact anymore.

Anna Marie, although exceeding every academic expectation placed upon her by Aunt Carrie, did not appreciate her new life and soon grew bored with it. Isolated from most people, she knew reckless and troublesome, going out at night for parties with the other mutants, drinking in the woods alone and even taunting the soldiers that came by once in a great while, all of them wanting to have a reason to kill a mutant or three. Anna Marie was a good tree climber, able to pass any military personnel that came through, and was able to get out of trouble with anyone save for Aunt Carrie of course. That aunt of her hers always knew, she just did, and she'd be called a rogue for getting into trouble more than once. However, that was what made their relationship so chaotic at times, enough that Aunt Carrie grounded Anna Marie to her room many times over.

In the meantime, Aunt Carrie developed a plan, seeing that her niece could not be kept innocent for much longer and the community elders would do nothing due to their vow for peace (despite their support for the Black Serpents). It wasn't complete by the time Ellis became the country's dictator, but it ensured Anna Marie's escape and perhaps her survival too. All Anna Marie knew was that there was a trapdoor in her aunt's bedroom, covered by a rug and some furniture. When the time came, she was to go through the doorway and follow the underground tunnel to its exit. There was a small sack of unperishable food, some bottles of water and a gun and ammunition stored in there, her aunt explained, and it would be useful to keep them close.

That time came sooner than even Aunt Carrie knew. Some days before Anna Marie sat before her small campfire, she recalled that she had been sitting down for dinner with her aunt. Just as she was about to eat, she heard a commotion outside, a lot of yelling and then shooting. Someone was arguing with someone else and there were screams of horror and dismay. Aunt Carrie only had to look out the window and see what was going on before her face turned white and her hands trembled. Immediately, she dragged Anna Marie to her bedroom and opened the trapdoor, shoving her inside without a word, not even a goodbye.

Darkness filled her eyesight and prompted her to move. Above her head, as she grabbed the sack of essentials, Anna Marie heard various conversations, a lot of them accusatory, and felt heat surround her, mostly above her head. This made her move faster, crawling straight ahead on faith alone, and she soon reached the end of the tunnel. Immediately, she had to dodge the people at the end, all of them searching for any survivors of their target. Instead, Anna Marie grabbed for a tree branch and, with the bag now over her shoulder, climbed up to the top, studying the area quickly before deciding to leave and go north. Seeing a fire where her home used to be helped her in that decision.

After traveling for some days (maybe a week or so, by her estimation), Anna Marie finally found a place further north where she could settle for a day or so, but no more than that. In the meantime, she had to stick away from heavily-populated places while traveling. Although it would be easier to blend into a city, she deduced that she would be spotted and questioned carefully. After all, she recalled that the hippie community refused to take the ID cards or brand their mutants and humans and separate one from the other. If one found her to be against the law, then she would easily be incarcerated or killed, even though she was nearly sixteen and too young to perhaps understand.

Night fell around her. Anna Marie shook her head free of her memories, insistent that she now had to face the future and forget her past, although her aunt had been her life for so long. Pushing down a sob that wanted to cry in pain for that loss, she worked down the last of the food she had taken with her and planned on making some weapon to hunt with, saving the bullets in the gun for when she truly had an emergency. From there, she started settling down and feeling safe within her environment, hunkering down for sleep when she felt truly secured. Just when she started allowing the fire to die down and her eyes to close, she suddenly saw a pair of gold eye blink and stare at her from the trees in front of her.

Screeching in dismay, Anna Marie immediately got up and grabbed the nearest item to her (an unbroken branch she meant for the fire) and pointed it at the creature who soon revealed itself soon enough. Well, the _thing_ was a woman to be exact, a blue-skinned naked woman with short slick red hair and scales that look like a reptile. She radiated kindness and some desperation there, Anna Marie sensed, and did not appear threatening. She kept her weapon aloft nonetheless, wanting to hear why this mutant was here.

"Who are you?" Anna Marie remanded, her voice shaking.

"I am nobody and somebody," the blue woman replied. "It depends on what you see and what you choose to perceive. I am a mutant who tried the save the world and always wanted nothing more than peace and instead received nothing more than grief."

"Where did you come from?"

"A prison in which you would never understand."

"I used to live in one. Try me."

"You have yet to live long enough to view your life as a cell that you cannot escape from."

Anna Marie was more confused than ever before, although she felt trusting of this person and lowered her branch slowly. "What…what do you want from me?"

"You. _You_ are wanted."

"For what?"

"The Black Serpents. We are gathering everyone so that we can go to safety."

"I am safe."

The blue woman laughed. "If you want to call it that. Look around you! Do you call this freedom? You, just like me, escaped and we're here without knowing if our efforts will be in vain. Alone, we cannot survive. Together and in numbers, we are invincible. There are people like us…mutants and even some humans…and we're working together to make sure that none of this spreads anywhere else. There are also more people behind us and all of them would make sure that we are returned home. One of them is a school. My broth – well, a friend of mine is there. He can keep you safe."

"A… _school_?"

"For people like you…like the rest of us. He can train you, give you a good education too, and even teach you how to control your powers. From there, our forces would be gathering."

"What makes you think I'll follow you?" Anna Marie demanded, tempted by this offer. "What makes you think I'll trust you?"

"Who else do you have?" the woman asked. "Look, all I can say is that you have a couple of options here and you can pick your venom, whatever that is. You can stay here and face the wild or you can come with me and have a roof over your head and hot food. Your choice…?"

Anna Marie knew that she was being asked for her name and somehow did not know how to answer. This woman…this _mutant_ …had tracked her down and directly told her up front about a school, a safe haven and the Black Serpents. They were gathering everyone together, Anna Marie knew, and they had chosen the likes of her to be there and to be herself, curse that her powers were. Well, it seemed like an honor, but it was also a choice that she might not get again. It was a future worth having for someone like her, someone who rebelled against the system and bucked against the rules.

For the first time in her life, Anna Marie knew that she would no longer be that person before she left her home, that teenager who did not like restraints. She was grown now, a woman on her own who lost so much already and now had something to gain. She was not the child of hippies anymore. She was her own person with a destiny she alone chose. Without begging for mercy, she would be a person reborn, a mutant that considered her own powers as a curse, and be one that steals others' powers honestly, unlike those medieval predecessors of hers that took without honesty.

A _rogue_.

"Rogue," the young mutant called herself now, a nickname from her aunt that she carried proudly now. "My name is Rogue. And you are…?"

"Raven was what I used to be," the blue woman replied without hesitation, moving closer to Rogue to shorten their distance and close their circle. "That was what my family called me when I was younger and more naïve than I am. I am now Mystique, a shape shifter who answers to none and gives answers to all…a woman with many faces that now sees that one needs to be destroyed…and that mutants and humans need to rise again and bring their common enemy down or face a terrible future."

* * *

 **A lot of the background information about Rogue came from her comic biography. Even though not much was revealed about her, creative license took over and blended in her extraordinary story. Mystique originally found her by the way and recruited her for the Brotherhood of Mutants. From there, Rogue switched her allegiance and went to the X-Men.**


	14. Nonsensical Dreams

Roger, Hank and Xavier thought that it was best to rescue Ororo before they allowed the Black Serpents total control of the northeastern region given all that they were willing to throw at Ellis. Going along with the decision, Logan then immediately made plans to run in and grab Ororo and maybe Matthew Adams if there was a chance. He did not tell too many people what he was doing, cluing Roger, Hank and Xavier alone in every once in a while in the short time he had. However, three days after he returned back from freeing the human camp and seeing that Fiona was comfortable downstairs, he decided that he was ready to leave the comforts of the living room and head right back down to DC.

During dinner in the dining room (something that used to be a playroom for the youngest students when they were a school), which Logan hardly joined nowadays and found discomforting (if he had to be honest with himself), he informed Hank and Xavier that he wanted to leave the next night. The guards on duty that stood in the doorways nodded along with the two mutants, one of them radioing in a code to someone, most likely to Roger. Logan expected the master spy to show up and take a swing at Ellis again anyway, although he wanted to do this alone. Who else would be the pain in the ass to him too, when Hank was too conspicuous and Xavier unable to stand?

In the meantime, Logan found the dinner table too quiet for his tastes. The scrape of forks against plates wasn't something he liked to begin with, ever since those kids had been picked up and their teaching staff shredded and only down to the three of them. He tried taking some of his food with the pair who only talked of the weather, but soon left the table. He excused himself, muttering about checking up on Colossus and Fiona, and exited the dining room just as Hank was about to say something akin to Logan waiting for them to come with him. Immediately, Logan went to the living room, packing up what he needed, and snuck to the door that led to the underground system. On the way, he heard Xavier try contacting him, his reassuring voice echoing in his head.

 _Logan, please –_

 _Not now, Professor. I need to think._

 _You aren't doing yourself any good by running away like this._

 _This is what Roger wanted. You and the Fuzzball agreed to it. I agreed to it. We need Storm. She needs us. No question about it._

 _That's not what I meant, Logan. It's about Danielle._

 _What about her?_ Logan had reached the cool hallway by then and was hooking a left to check on Colossus in his room, but stopped and leaned against a wall to keep himself steady. The mention of Danielle sent shivers up and down his spine and the pain stabbed him in the chest, harder than he expected.

 _Logan, you need to understand her sacrifice. We might not be able to reach her and that's something we all need to accept. We might even have to lose her._

 _No._ Logan was determined on that, although the pain increased with the thought of Danielle dead. _I cannot accept that, Professor._

 _Logan –_

By then, Logan had enough of baring his soul and started walking again, ignoring the Professor begging him to confront his anger. He heard Xavier ask him to continue talking, but soon gave up. Logan figured that he still had some hope left for him and would see Logan talk again. However, the older mutant had his doubts, eating him alive like worms in soil. He could not imagine a world without Danielle. It was impossible for him to keep on living if she was dead. However, he could not accept her dying in the name of freedom for everyone. Danielle Mitchell was many things, but she was not a martyr. Logan was sure of it…and of rescuing her too.

Colossus was actually in the hallway, sitting at a corner and drawing something in fast motions. Logan noted that he was ok and then moved in the opposite direction towards the infirmary. He peeked quickly as the doors opened, seeing Fiona still sleeping peacefully, her vitals on the machine still registering that she was hardly alive. Sighing, Logan left, heading back upstairs. Just as he was about to face the music with Hank and Xavier, he sensed another presence below. He turned around, walking back down the stairs and following the scent. He soon came across Roger, writing something down on a notepad.

"I didn't expect you to get here so fast," Logan remarked, a statement that hardly startled the master spy.

"I was in the neighborhood anyway," Roger replied without looking up from his writing. "I was planning on picking up Storm with you and heading back up to Mae. I miss my wife, you know. Nights are getting cold and I bet she wants to kill me by now."

"I understand."

"You aren't married, Logan. How would you know?"

The barb stung badly. "I wouldn't, but my days are pretty lonely too."

"Uh-huh." Roger stopped his pen from flying and looked up at Logan. "Ok, so you have the plan?"

"Yeah." Logan crossed his arms in defense. "There are tunnels underground everywhere in the city, but all of them are guarded…except for one. By the old ruins of that courthouse of the Supreme Court, there's an underground sewer that leads straight into Peter and Mary Ellis' home. The line is parallel to their main one and crosses right in the middle, leading to their tunnels. Storm, you said, is on the west side of the house on the third floor."

"Yeah, she is, and Matthew Adams is on the east side, but in the dungeon. We can see about getting him first and then use him to get Storm. In the meantime, I can disable the cameras and mics."

"Right, what I was thinking too. Now, we can cross to the main passageway, switch places with some guards and head upstairs. By the time the guards are supposed to be changed, we'd be where Storm is. It'll be easy to hide her after our four hours of watch without raising an alarm, since we'd be right back where we're supposed to be. By then, we can go back to where we came from and head back here."

"Sounds solid. With just the two of us and Matthew, I'm sure we can make it."

"Yeah. Have a few guys that can take over the transport system?"

"Already on that. Anything else?"

"Not that I think of right now. We are traveling light."

Roger nodded. "Right. However, I think we should leave tonight."

"What? Why?" Logan expected a day to prepare and another to get there.

"Less people are out tonight," Roger pointed out. "One quick word to Charles and Hank and we'll be off. Think you can be ready then? I can get your pack."

Logan nodded slowly. "Not a problem. My bag is at its usual spot."

Roger didn't say another word. He dashed off and soon was back with Logan's gear and his own. From there, the two traveled another way to the garage, Roger picking a vehicle that was compatible with the melting snow and driving off inconspicuously into the night. The garage and then the gates opened and the night enveloped them as they navigated away from Salem Center and towards the back roads of Westchester. Logan assumed, with Roger driving, it'd take longer with the road blocks, ID checks and military personnel inspecting their vehicle. However, the master spy managed to skip all of that, soon arriving in New Jersey in no time flat and moving south quickly. By the time the sun weakly came up the next morning, the pair were in DC and soon ditching their car.

Logan was surprised by his surroundings. The last time he had been in DC was to do some snooping and to check on Danielle and her new baby. Then, the city had been decked out in decorations for the new heir and was celebrating the arrival of a boy, although chaos remained outside of that happy bubble. Now, it seemed like it was in ruins. Battles had been waged in the streets and the military had been pushing back. The smell of dead bodies were everywhere, even from those living off of what had been left behind. Windows had been shattered, a lot of doors were hanging on hinges and the streets echoed with the occasional gunshot. It was dark, despite the sun coming out, and gloomy. It was not a capital city anymore. Logan saw it as a black hole of shame.

"Come on," Roger finally said, nudging Logan in the sides with his elbow. "Let's get out of here before someone sees us."

Logan nodded, following Roger through the deserted walkways and streets of DC. An hour later, they found themselves at what used to be the Supreme Court. Logan kicked some of the ruins aside, stepping over flowers, teddy bears and even messages of hope, always mistaken as treason instead of compassion. He and Roger then walked to the back of what used to be a proud building and found the manhole for the sewers. Roger lifted the cover and went down, Logan following him after putting the cover back behind them. From there, the two carefully walked a pathway, meeting several homeless people on the way, all of them hiding from Ellis. While the two had to tell all of them that they had nothing and prove it as they showed their bags, they still had to watch their pockets. Roger did not think them threatening, since none of them were spies from Ellis anyway, but Logan was suspicious and always checking out their surroundings left and right before they departed from the residential end and entered into a darker end.

From memory of the maps, Logan led Roger through them silently, stopping every so often, and soon came upon the tunnels underneath Peter Ellis' home. Shushing Roger, he moved on alone and quickly disabled the three men needed for uniforms. From there, he hid the unconscious bodies in a nearby closet, pulling off their clothes. Roger then came forward, eager to execute the next step of their plan. The two then changed, Logan hiding the last clothing in his pack, and waited for the signal to move to the next position.

That did not take long. Soon enough, Roger and Logan were directed by some captain to check in on Matthew. When asked about where the third guard was, Roger pointed out that he went ahead. The excuse was accepted, allowing them free access through the house. Roger had this committed to memory by studying it so many times. First, he and Logan wound their way through the dank passageways of the dungeon, soon coming upon a series of cells. With the keys taken from the guards, Roger counted out which one was which and soon found Matthew's, walking to his cell and unlocking it.

The noise hardly startled the prisoner. Matthew had been sleeping in a corner, the pair saw, and saw not in the best of conditions, especially since he didn't even respond to the door opening. It was obvious through his appearance that he was not going to pass muster for inspection and be a guard with them. Logan nodded to Roger in understanding and the two decided to leave him for last. Satisfied with that decision, they made their way out, locking the door behind them, and heading upstairs to the other side of the house, where Ororo was imprisoned.

The changing of the guard went fast. Before Logan knew it, they were inside the room Ororo was housed in. Roger whispered that he'd stick outside and they'd switch in two hours as was planned. Logan nodded, entering the bedroom and taking a quick glance around. He knew the room to be monitored, so stayed quiet and did his job, keeping to the shadows and watching Ororo sleep. She seemed to be in the same state of shock as Matthew, but not as dirty and perhaps more beautiful. It seemed like someone, most likely Peter, was using her and had dolled her up to appear prettier for appearances' sake. It was a thought that made Logan's stomach drop in dismay. Nonetheless, he waited for Roger to turn off the electronics and swap positions. After over two hours of waiting, he heard the door open behind him.

It was Roger. "We need to move… _now_ ," he said. "Peter Ellis is locking down his house because his shiny cameras and microphones are not working. If we're getting out of here alive, we need to grab Storm and Matthew and make a break for it."

"How many are out there now?" Logan asked in dismay.

"Meeting with the guards was a few minutes ago," Roger explained. "They might be ending it now. Even though we were excused from it, Logan, we still need to go."

Logan did not need to be told twice. Immediately, he walked over to the sleeping form on the bed and grabbed Ororo, following Roger out the door just as the sun peeked fully through the windows. On the way, just as Logan repositioned Ororo to rest over his left shoulder, they crept into a dark corner, seeing the other guards pass them and go into Ororo's room. Once they realized that there had been an escape, they sounded the alarm and shouted for more help. That was when Logan and Roger knew that they were going to be trapped.

Logan handed Ororo to Roger. The master spy gave him a dirty look until Logan shot him an equally hateful one. "Take Storm," Logan ordered. "I'll get Matthew. Meet me back under the courthouse."

Roger did not argue as he tossed Logan the keys, running in one direction. Logan took the other way, joining some other men and pretending to take part in their activities. Once the captain of the guards positioned him back to the dungeon, Logan took his chance. Immediately, he went downstairs, backtracking to the cell Matthew was housed in. Sensing nobody around, Logan unlocked the door and slowly walked in, ignoring the stench around him, and unleashed his claws. He noted that Matthew was chained at the neck, legs and arms. That was a quick fix, the metal disintegrating under his careful handling. It also took no time to pick up the limp body and carry him out, claws back in.

On the way back through the tunnels, Logan kept hearing Matthew mutter nonsensical words over and over again like it was a prayer that would protect him. He shook his head, thinking that maybe Matthew was dreaming, but he doubt it. When he heard Matthew talk about Peter stopping something, he listened. As he reached the end of the tunnel system and turned to the small doorway that led to the sewer, he then heard Matthew curse Peter and beg him not to touch Ororo. Matthew started struggling against Logan, but the older mutant held on tightly and restrained the squirming body. He was almost out of there and did not need someone to hear Matthew.

However, something nagged at Logan and would continue to for some time. If Peter was raping Ororo and using her as bait, then Leon Ellis might be doing the same to Danielle. And if one was interchangeable, then it would not matter. The two were dangerous…and they would need to go. That much Logan can promise to him. Peter and Leon Ellis would need to be killed and he would be the one to do it.


	15. Changing of the Tide

**May 24, 2000**

Mae had to admit that it was a nice that she was away from it all. She did not like the chaos that her brother had unleashed and was relieved, to say the least, that she was not a part of it. Indeed, being far north in the mountains of New York had its advantages. She could run to the store without being recognized and not have to give her ID over to anyone since nobody cared. The M on her forehead was hidden through makeup and nobody asked about the excessive usage, thinking that an older woman just wanted to appear younger. No, being in a small town in the mountains was calm. None of them liked the new laws and openly flaunted that fact, which would soon bring down the secret police and the military if they were not careful.

In the meantime, hidden behind a wall of beauty and serenity, Mae enjoyed a life she never knew was possible. Gil was flourishing again and was getting past the incident from some time ago. Roger, although out most of the time with his spying and sabotaging, found that he could relax here and not play a scout. There was a family she had to take care of, not a school full of mutants that constantly clamored for her attention, and that alone was calming to the soul and was not so stressful.

Today was no different. Mae made sure that Gil was busy with something (who knew what really), saying a casual farewell as he was building yet another machine of some sort, and walking out the door to take her walk to the store. Although Roger had warned her time and again to take a vehicle for an easy escape, Mae did not want to draw attention to herself. Cars had been few and far between these days and fuel for it was harder to find. Roger just thought it would be less dangerous in case something happened. After over two years in hiding, Mae thought that she was safe. Nobody would see her and bother her.

Walking out the door, Mae made her usual trek downhill and to the main road. She then took a right-hand turn, following the worn road into town. From there, after a half hour of walking, she found her favorite place to shop, taking a cart and entering the cool building, her purse settled on the cart seat. She stopped before a fruit and vegetable stand, checking out melons and bananas, and listened to what was going on around her, gossip and such. For some reason, it was unusually quiet. Granted, it was early morning and not a lot of people were up and about, but Mae still found it chilling. Normally, she had some of the elderly women mill around her, complaining about the pricing and how they've been denied their pension and social security checks now that it had been abolished and Ellis had taken it all. Now, there were a few store employees and maybe a child or two begging for food. She was alone.

Eerie, she called it. Mae continued bagging fruit, ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of her neck and the hair prickling up in fright. She then put the food in the cart, moving on to the next stand. Behind her outside, she heard something, but she could not place it. Cautious, she again moved on, picking up a bag of potatoes and then onions. By the time she reached for the peppers, there was a screech of tires and an explosion some yards behind her. Soon, glass was shattering and building bricks were flying. The force of it propelled Mae forward, her chin hitting the bottom of the cart and her arms cut up from the glass. Shaking she tried standing up, but felt a sudden kick to the back of her knees. She fell forward again, this time her face tasting the sharp shards, and groaned, unable to get up. She then realized that she was hurt, but not the extent of it. By then, it didn't matter. Whoever was behind her threw a sack over her head and picked her up.

The next thing Mae knew, a blinding light shone in her face. She adjusted to it, squinting to see. When her eyes finally focused on the scene, she saw that she was sitting in a cell, hands tied behind her back and her ankles bound by chains. It was nighttime, although a flashlight was pointed at her and her accuser stood before her, waiting for a word of guilt. Mae wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. She knew what this was about. She was just a tool, some leverage that would lead her brother to Roger. It was just a matter of twisted and horrid fate that made her the biological sister of a ruthless dictator.

Peter Ellis was the one who held her hostage. He dimmed his light, sneering at his cousin. "Care to tell me why a mutant has been in hiding for two years and not registered?" he asked Mae, the sneer changing to a look of triumph.

In response, Mae spit in his face, the offending liquid dripping down Peter's face. She had to words to say to him. Her cousin was as dead to her as Leon. Peter had no role in her life once he found out that she was a mutant. Although her parents had been wary of it and hardly saw her after the fact anyway, it had been Leon and Peter who taunted her the most. Finding solace in Shannon Adams and her sister had been the best balm to Mae, even though they were several years older. They were the ones who introduced her to the mutant community and eventually, she found her way to Roger and Xavier. Peter and Leon? She had been trying to live them down for years.

Peter slapped Mae in the face. "If you want to live, my dear cousin, you had better do as I say."

Mae still sat in a stony silence. This infuriated Peter more, but he dared to do nothing more. Roger Mortimer was a formidable enemy, he had to admit, and he didn't want to damage Mae too much before he tried rescuing her. However, she was the key to getting her husband. That was the prize Peter coveted the most. He wanted Roger Mortimer's head on a silver platter and to personally present it to Leon, something that even the dictator had been clamoring for in the years he had been on the rise.

"You better listen, Mae, and listen carefully," Peter continued, his anger rising as he wiped his face. "Leon needs Danielle and Michael. It's the only way his family man image can remain good with the public. They don't really know that they are mutants, just like you. They just know that he's so good to them."

The way Peter named the two mutants had been like it was a disease and that enraged Mae. " _And_?" she demanded, breaking her vow of silence.

"We kind of need a… _babysitter_ , let's say," Peter replied. "It seems that Ororo Munroe and Matthew Adams had somehow made a slip. We need someone to keep Danielle and her little brat company."

Mae's heart sank. She knew what this meant. Elated (more than she'll admit to Peter anyway) that the pair escaped and most likely with her husband's assistance (and maybe Logan's too), she deduced that it meant, without a friend, that Danielle was in terrible danger and might be dying. She had the ability to live and die as she pleased, but it did not mean that her son needed help too. Mae was a registered nurse and usable. For how long, she could not see yet. However, it could work to her advantage if what she concluded was right. So, for now, she can play along with Peter's little game. It'll just be a matter of time before she too escapes…and with Danielle and her son along for the ride.

Peter snapped his fingers in front of Mae. "Paying attention yet? Fuck, I take it you're either as dumb as Leon says you are or that your silence means consent. Either way, I think you'll be coming with me. I mean, we don't need the sister of the dictator who rules us to be branded a traitor, do we?"

Honestly, Mae could care less. If treason meant that she was who she was and wanted equality for all, then so be it. It did seem easier to follow Peter though. He had two of his men come out of the nowhere and pick her up, dragging by behind that cousin of hers through the underground system she was taken to, most likely in the capital city. They escorted Mae up a set of stairs, leading to a house hallway. Through the maze they went, finally reaching another set of stairs in the main foyer. With each step made, Mae's nervousness grew and all sorts of scenarios came to mind, especially when she smelled blood. The scent was stronger the nearer they reached a certain room, one that Peter opened the door to and the men deposited Mae in. They took the chains off of her and untied her arms and shut the door behind them, leaving Mae alone.

From her surroundings, Mae saw that this was Danielle's vast suite of rooms. She was currently in a sort of greeting room, where, as a wife of a dictator, Danielle perhaps saw people publically. A servant was currently cleaning the windows with great care, but noted Mae with little interest and moved on with her work. Mae squinted her eyes for a second, swearing that she saw pure gold in those eyes of the girl, but she dismissed it as a fantasy. Instead, she moved on to a door that seemed to be appear like it was Danielle's inner sanctum. She found it unlocked from the outside, a strange thing she thought, and entered, closing the world behind her.

Immediately, Mae gagged. The smell of blood was the worst in this part of the quarters and it was no wonder. It was Danielle. She was laying on her elaborate bed bleeding heavily. Her son, who Mae knew was named Michael, was in his crib by the bed, whimpering most likely for food and other nourishment. Supplies had been scattered across the room almost like someone raided it and decided that it was not worth it to reverse the damage. Michael eyed these with helplessness, almost like he knew that they were all supposed to be for him, but he had no ability to get out and feed himself.

Priorities had to be set in the meantime. First, Mae checked Danielle and found her beaten, most of them bruises from ages ago, and she was possibly (most likely, Mae saw) miscarrying. Second, she picked Michael up without him fussing and gathered up his food, singing him a song to calm him down as she watched Danielle and tried feeding the baby with whatever was left behind. She managed to calm the poor child down and gained his trust, but she did not know for how long. Michael was attached to Danielle in a way that all children were. Trusting was hardly something a leader's son can do.

Mae soon found a clean spot on the bed and spooned some baby cereal into Michael's mouth, washing it down with some formula. As she did, she freed a hand and turned to stroke Danielle's red hair, thinking of how to tend to her too. Chopped at the shoulders in a haphazard way, it appeared ragged and greasy. Mae's fingers lingered at the ends, tenderly remembering the child as too serious and later full of fun, and cursed her brother for the innocence that had been lost. Danielle had been happiest with Logan, she recalled, and all of that was taken away within a blink of an eye. Now, Danielle was a mother who was losing a battle for her life.

Sunshine soon filtered through the windows as a new day came. Mae had to wonder if Roger knew what had happened or if Gil was ok, tinkering as he was. Her own mother's longing filled her heart and it clenched worse as she thought that she was missing out on her family's life, being captured as she was. That was the worst feeling and one she wanted no other to experience, not even Leon and Peter, even though the two would stop it nothing to divide families. After all, they had done a good job doing that to the country anyway.

~00~

Bobby Drake had always waited for the best moment to strike and move on. After all, his life had been a series of moments that made him hold his breath and patiently sit before the action occurred. This night was one of them, sitting in a cell as he was and waiting for his chance to make a run for it.

Honestly though, Bobby had better things to do than to sit in prison and wait his turn to be deported out to some camp for mutants. It wasn't exactly his fault that a bully turned on his date and now he was a block of ice. Hell, all Bobby wanted to do was check out the Red Sox and hope they win the World Series this year or maybe play baseball in the backyard with his brother Ronnie. Competition was in his blood, especially against his brother, who he actually missed very much. _Now_? Jesus Christ, now he was a convicted criminal and to be sent to some camp and all because he was a mutant and had been evading registration for months.

Bobby knew that it all happened before that day he used his powers in public for the first time. That was why he ran away initially. His parents were carefully watched. They knew that the gene was passed in his family. It was just easier to get away from his family and the only home he'd known, to keep his parents out of trouble, and to just drop a postcard here and there and let them know he was ok. Meanwhile, he continued some sort of education until about a month ago, when he met Judy down in Nashville and they started dating. It was perfect, he thought, especially since Judy had a car and could take them anywhere. She knew that he was on the run and did not care. He was protective of her, but his temper always got the best of him.

That was when the trouble started for Bobby and that asshole who bothered him and Judy (a bully that was sexually harassing his date and something she didn't tell Bobby about) got his payback. Bobby wasn't thinking about the consequences of his actions, only that he was protecting Judy. However, his usage of powers earned him a ticket out of freedom. It didn't help that there were several people in the restaurant he and Judy occupied and that there was a sheriff conveniently there to take him away, for "his own protection", he was told.

 _Witnesses be damned. Damn them, damn me and damn being a mutant!_

Paperwork had to be proceeded and they needed to find out who he was, since Bobby never carried his ID card and never registered as a mutant. To be honest, he wasn't one when he was given the option to tell the government he was human anyway. Now, it was a crime against him and a good black mark since it meant an automatic twenty years in prison. Not that Bobby cared though, sitting on a cold, hard bed and all. He was tired of the silly new rules and just wanted to join the Black Serpents, who he knew were organizing more and more daily and trying to take down Leon Ellis. It was a good thing, he mused. It was something to rally behind and it meant hope for everyone.

Since being picked up by the sheriff, Bobby calculated that it had been two nights and two nights too many to be cooped up. He walked from his hard bed against the wall to the bars, checking the time on the opposite wall. It was almost midnight. That meant that the sheriff was off-duty and his deputy was taking over the night shift. It also meant that it was time to leave. The deputy was too easy to manipulate and he wouldn't notice a thing really…not until morning, that is.

Bobby sat back down on his bed, swinging his legs for an hour as the change happened. Then, when the deputy walked past him and settled in his desk seat, soon asleep and a cigarette still smoldering in his mouth, he went into action. Knowing that his cell was in the back of the building and that a field was between him and freedom, Bobby simply got up and turned the brick wall into a sheet of ice. With the southern heat so thick that night, it melted quickly and within ten minutes, allowing Bobby a way to escape once more.

 _That was too easy._ Bobby didn't bring anything with him to Nashville, but he had all he needed to get to the Black Serpents in the north. He had a plan in mind and he was ready to go.

All that mattered to him now was that he was able to live in peace. It was something Bobby wanted for everyone too. Then again, how many sixteen-year-olds wished for it too?

* * *

 **The information about Iceman (Bobby Drake) comes directly from the comics. His powers had been discovered after a date with a girl named Judy and he did turn a bully into a block of ice. He also was incarcerated for using his powers and isolated for his own safety.**


	16. Death Follows Another to the Other Side

**July 6, 2000**

It was a very hot summer so far, Danielle had to admit, and one that she thought would never come after so much time of being sick and in the cold of the inside world. After some months of being locked in her room, after dealing with Peter's men and proving that she was a loyal wife many times over, Leon finally was rewarding her for her patience and not showing off her powers to anyone. She was being sent to New York along with him, to visit and work on support. It had been some time that the Black Serpents had declared the area theirs, but Leon's military forces had been fighting them back and hardly had the area contained most of the time, the town of Salem Center now a battlefield. They at least have control over the rest of southern New York and the City. The rest of the region, including the six New England states, was no longer under Leon's current regime.

As she traveled north by train, Danielle tried not to weep with joy. It was going to be the first time she had been in her hometown since she was married, which seemed like a lifetime ago, and she was taking Michael with her. Indeed, he was sitting contently next to her, playing with his toys in the playpen. However, Mae was not coming with her. Leon had deemed her too dangerous to travel with and had chosen to lock his sister away instead, down in the dungeon where Peter would have access to her at all times. It was something Danielle did not want to think about. It was easier to think that she might see her mother again. Shannon had been put into an assisted living home in Westchester and had not seen her daughter since the wedding.

Jay was also someone that Danielle desperately wanted to see because it had been too long since their last meeting as well. However, Leon already told her some time ago that he was locked away and was never coming out again, convicted as a criminal and scheduled to be executed as a spy when Leon thought it convenient. It was wishful thinking, she supposed, that her husband would tell her where her brother was jailed and if she could visit him once in a while before he died. No matter. She had to make the best she could out of this trip and smile and nod to everyone, even going as far as ignoring Logan if she saw him.

She doubted seeing Logan, no matter how much her heart ached for him and wished to be side-by-side with him in this fight. Knowing Roger though, he would be sneaky trying to get anybody out whenever he can. It was even said that the mansion was barricaded against any attack, the soldiers placed there as guards now putty in the so-called state enemy's hands. Danielle secretly and silently supported them, but felt so conflicted now that she was being used as bait by Leon, hoping that a mutant flock would see her. She was a mutant after all and would have to make a pretty scene for Leon as he gathered people to die.

Danielle picked Michael up and held him close to her heart, smelling him through his reddish-blonde hair. He fussed and eventually was put down, Danielle patting his back as he tried walking away from her and heading towards the back door of the train, his toddler attitude so petulant. Danielle chased him, putting him back in the playpen with many complaints, even for one almost two years old and recently off the formula he so loved too. She then sat back down, watching the scenery as she headed further up north towards what she felt was her home. Leon even looked up from his newspaper for a minute to see what the aggravation was about. Seeing that all was well and that he would have nothing to do with Michael, he went back to reading the news.

 _Yeah, news he controlled._ Danielle tried not to be bitter, but it was difficult not to be. She did not feel hatred for Leon yet because it was hard to despise someone who was your husband and the father of your child. She did feel sadness though, something that she kept with her ever since she had been separated from Logan.

For the next hour, Danielle alternated between the window and Michael. She did not realize that the train was moving slower and slower until they reached a station somewhere in northern New Jersey, stopping. Suddenly, before she could ask Leon what happened, she saw soldiers boarding and surrounding her and Michael in a protective stance. Leon did not seem bothered by this fact, continuing to read the newspaper and ignore his family's fright. To alleviate some of her fear, Danielle picked Michael up, more for her comfort and his protection than anything else. However, when she saw that they meant no harm to them, she relaxed, but slightly. After that encounter with Peter's men, she will always be cautious and look for ways to escape, no matter what.

 _For Michael, I will fight. They cannot stop me now. I've proven to Peter that I can beat his men at their own game._

Leon finally perked up. "I assume that we are making a stop?" he asked snobbishly, directing the question to the soldiers' leader, a captain.

The captain kneeled before Leon, a few feet away from his seat and within a respectful distance. "Your Excellency, I beg your pardon a million times, but yes, we have stopped. It is more for your safety, as well as your family's, than anything else."

"What's happened?" Leon was suspicious, his eyes squeezing into thin slots.

"Your Excellency, the rebels have taken over Salem Center completely. Our forces have been pushed to Westchester."

"Impossible! We cannot retreat."

"I agree, Your Excellency. We are pushing our troops forward to meet them."

"Is it at least safe to go to Westchester?"

"It would be safer for Your Excellency if we stayed here," the captain offered. "We can most certainly accommodate your family and make arrangements for your speech to be here instead of New York."

"No!" Leon banged his fist against the small table before him. "I am not admitting failure. Captain, we move forward. Bring us to Westchester. I intend to visit my wife's mother and that is final. We can make our own arrangements to stay in Westchester. Let the rebels come. I intend to hang and shoot them all."

Danielle wasn't going to argue with her husband in public. She knew better. However, even she had to question his decision to go to Westchester. If there was a battle in Salem Center and the so-called Black Serpents have the area surrounded, then Westchester was next on their list. Once they heard that the Ellis family was there, they were going to attempt either assassination or rescue and it would be imminent. Danielle hoped that they would pick her and Michael up, although she doubted that. Leon would see that they were locked away again and never saw the light of day again.

"Your Excellency, then allow us to escort you and your family to Westchester," the captain allowed, his face betraying little of how he felt (although Danielle sensed that he too disagreed with the decision). "We would give you better protection than the train can."

Leon nodded his consent, which prompted all of the men to start moving. Before Danielle knew it, she and Michael, along with their belongings, were herded to a limo at the train station. Leon soon joined them, sitting in the spacious back seat with them. Danielle held onto Michael the whole trip, not even glancing out the window at the destruction in the countryside. She smelled it though, trying to keep her senses away from the chaos. However, she felt it again. _Death_. It was so close to her, following her. It then surrounded them as they stepped into a secured hotel property in Westchester, overwhelming Danielle to the point where she almost collapsed as she climbed out of the vehicle. Leon was unsympathetic. He continued his way to the doors, Danielle and Michael behind him, and checked in.

Before Danielle knew it, she was in her suite of rooms and readying herself to see her mother. She had been told it would be a short visit anyway, something she accepted. Danielle was never really close to her mother anyway, but seeing her might bring back some sort of security she craved. Shannon Mitchell also never met Michael, which was a sore spot for Danielle, although she was sure it would bring something positive back into her mother's face. A new grandchild was the thing to cheer Shannon up. When Jax was with them still, she loved taking care of him when she was having a good day. Maybe it would be the same way for Michael, Danielle mused.

 _Oh, it just had to be! I have to believe it._

Soon, Danielle was shuffled back into the limo with Michael and some of her security guards, Leon opting to remain behind. From there, she was driven to the assisted living facility her mother was held in since Danielle was married. Upon arrival, there was a small sea of reporters, eager to see the dictator's wife and son, both rumored to be mutants and marked as such. Danielle hid hers and Michael's signs well, casually getting out of the vehicle with a bodyguard and having another man carry the baby's things with them. Without answering questions, Danielle managed to walk forward proudly, leaving the battle-fatigued people behind her, and signed into the main office amid cameras flashing in the windows. Immediately, she was told by the receptionist which unit number her mother was held in and given the keys.

Holding Michael tightly against her chest, Danielle pushed herself to go to that door, telling herself that she still needed to be the strong one and not to cry when she saw her mother. After all, Shannon was watched closely too. She had a lot of help and was said to be improving. They trusted her enough not to have her sedated and she functioned normally. She even socialized with the others at the facility, but stayed with the mutants of course. Having human contact was not allowed.

In essence, Shannon Mitchell, much like her daughter and perhaps her grandson, was in her own prison and would soon be amongst the millions now dead because of Leon Ellis. Danielle knew that it was a matter of time before they would all be victims to the madness they had been avoiding for some time.

Unit D-19 stood dark and forbidding before Danielle. Gulping down the sudden lump in her throat, she knocked with one hand, key between her fingers, and then moved to unlock it. She pushed the door in gingerly, enveloped in a cloud of darkness that retched of evil. Instantly, Danielle recoiled, allowing her men to go in first to ensure the area was safe for her and Michael to enter. Five men went inside and three remained with her, the former quickly checking the home and returning with grim faces. Danielle read them as tragedy, all of them wringing their hands in shame, but she could not accept it at face-value.

 _No. No, no, no!_

Danielle handed Michael to one of the men and entered herself, although all of them protested loudly behind her. Death again followed her though, breathing a cold chill down her back, and was soon whizzing around her to show her the scene she was never meant to see. In the small dining area, hanging above a chair, was a body, moving slightly with the breeze of an open window. It whirled in a circle, soon facing its blank, lifeless glare at Danielle.

It was Shannon Mitchell. She had finally killed herself.

~00~

An unofficial sort of war may have been declared between Leon Ellis and the Black Serpents, but that did not stop the rebels from showing respect for one of Salem Center's own. Saint Catherine's Church and Cemetery, open for sanctuary for anyone who sought it and considered sacred neutral ground for both sides, was now cleared for the funeral of Shannon Adams Mitchell.

Originally, Leon had ordered the body transported to a pauper's grave in Westchester until Roger Mortimer sent him a message of peace, offering the way to the church and cemetery cleared. Leon considered it for a few hours, thought it was a trick, and then sent word back that the funeral and burial will happen in Salem Center after all. He expected to catch the master spy at his own game and even send people to see if Roger had decided to make himself known, but his men were unable to find him in the time before the ceremony. Indeed, when they checked the mansion where the mutant school used to be, they were unable to get through to the grounds, seeing that it appeared deserted, albeit heavily armed and booby-trapped at the gates.

In the meantime, he had no empathy for his wife. Danielle was as numb as the day they found her mother's body swaying from the ceiling and she needed someone to be her rock, hoping that her husband would stay and at least tell her that it will be all right. However, Leon Ellis did not have time for give her any sympathy or to stand with her at the funeral. As soon as he heard about the death of his mother-in-law and arranged for her interment in Salem Center, he left New York and went back to DC. He left behind a group of people to keep watch over his wife and son and an army to ensure that they were not attacked and to battle if the rebels decided to make trouble.

Indeed, that army was used as a wall of protection for Danielle as she was driven to the church for the funeral, missing Michael all the more (left behind with Mary, who came straightaway to give her so-called help). Hundreds of people had taken to the streets for the occasion, fighting the men watching over her so that they could get a good look at their dictator's grieving wife. Although they found tinted car windows and would see nothing more than a woman dressed completely in black anyway, Danielle still found it disturbing to be viewed like she was on show. She felt her skin crawl as the vehicle moved forward to the church, nervous that someone was going to try something stupid and more people would be killed for it.

Her fears seemed unfounded though. When Danielle managed to get out of her car in the parking lot, her bodyguard immediately next to her, everyone who had come was now respecting her space. All eyes on her turned downward and their feet were shuffling backwards to make a pathway for her. Nodding this way and that, Danielle entered the building, shuddering and almost crumpling when she saw the casket down the aisle. She was caught by familiar arms, awaking a power in her that she had not felt in some months. By then, her bodyguard took over as he yelled at the person who dared to touch his leader's wife. Danielle stood up, thanking everyone with a smile, and was surprised to see her brother Jay next to her.

Jay did not look well. He had been chained heavily, from his ankles to his neck, and was flanked by several other guards that seemed bored with being his keepers. He was dirty, his clothes unkempt, and he smelled badly, like he had been confined for years and was not allowed too many baths. Compared to Danielle, he had a worse time of his confinement. However, his powers recognized hers and they linked once more, something that was refreshing and relieving all at once. He smiled at her too when they stole glances and he moved a little closer to her, hoping to catch a word or two before they were caught.

 _Hey, little sister._

The use of communicating with minds startled Danielle and she shook, walking with Jay and their company to the front to sit. _Hey, older brother._

 _I can ask how you're doing, but I can see it for myself. What's happened?_

 _I don't know, Jay. I don't know anymore._

 _What do you mean?_

By then, the two were seated, although on opposite ends of the pew. This allow Danielle a moment to reply. _I mean what I mean, Jay. I don't know anymore. All I know is that this world has gone mad and there's nothing we can do about it. Mom…I can't believe she's gone now._

 _Me too. I am sad that she's gone too. I mean, I heard bits and pieces from my lonely little room about her and then some, enough to make your toes curl. Want to hear more?_

 _Not now. I think I've heard enough to last me a lifetime. My concern is my son._

 _Well, your mind is mush, isn't it? Gotta make you forget little details, right? I mean, you're wondering why I'm here?_

 _Yes, a little, now that you've mentioned it._

 _Roger helped to bail me out. Threatened your loving husband with guerilla warfare if he didn't allow me to see Mom get blessed and buried and all of that nonsense. He took it seriously apparently. So, here I am. Love me now?_

 _You listen to rumors too much. Roger did no such thing._

 _What rumors? It's the truth._

Danielle cut Jay off by then, tears threatening to come down her face. By then, the mass had begun, the old priest intoning the familiar motions. He blessed the casket, read some gospels and said the usual things. Some people came up to say a few words, mostly people in the town, and it was heartfelt and oddly comforting. Almost two hours later, everyone was finished and the priest was readying the pallbearers to bring the body to the cemetery next door. As soon as the casket moved with the six men and the stern-looking officiate, Danielle followed behind it, a line slowly behind her. She blinked in the summer sunshine as it hit her in the face, directing the men who carried her mother downhill to a plot that Shannon had paid for years ago, situated near her own mother, sister and nieces. Soon, roses were handed out and a final prayer said by the priest, especially for a soul that took her own life and was not supposed to be buried on Christian grounds.

One by one, each person in line threw in a rose and walked away. Danielle stood watch near the hole, clenching her thornless flower in her hands and feeling the fragrance meet her nose. She soon felt Jay's reassuring presence nearby, even though his guards kept him close, and tried comforting him too. He was as upset as she was, although his state of mind resembled that time he came home from the Middle East. He was depressed, down a dark hole as she was, and there was no turning back.

When everything was said and done, Danielle stayed behind to watch the dirt cover the grave. Jay waved goodbye to her, echoing a loving sentiment and said to stay strong, something Danielle could not feel. As the swarm of men surrounded her again, Danielle sensed another presence nearby. She looked to the woods nearby, seeing the figure stand forlornly within the trees.

It was Logan. He had been watching the whole time.

It took all of Danielle's strength not to break away from her bodyguard (now head of her security at this moment) and run to Logan. She only smiled at him sadly, her eyes soon back to the plot that was now covered in dirt. Besides, she did not want to bring trouble to him. It was just reassuring that he found out what happened and was giving her the comfort he could from the distance between them. However, when she turned to see him again, he was gone.

Danielle turned to the man in charge. "Let's go home. I think we've stayed here long enough."

The head of her security nodded. He yelled some orders out to the rest of the group. Danielle just followed them out, again boarding the limo and driving away. She watched the cemetery through the back window, hoping to catch one more memory of the town she grew up in and of her mother, but there was nothing except death. Sitting correctly in her seat, Danielle only thought of Michael now, a child she now cherished more.

It seemed too much to bear. The grief suddenly overwhelmed Danielle. She had been kept so stoic and had never openly displayed how distressed she really was. However, just when her bodyguard did a quick search of the area from his position across from her, she let out some noisy tears, putting her face into her hands and weeping.

* * *

 **Just a quick note about the timing in the story. Now, the previous chapter stated that it was May 1999. I meant it to be May 2000, something that confused me. I did just change it for the sake of clarity. I do apologize for anybody scratching their heads. Next time, can someone mention something please? Thank you!**


	17. Traversing Boundaries

Over the next few weeks, as July turned very heated and humid, Danielle continued to stare out of her window into the nothingness, back in DC immediately after the funeral. Day after day, as she still watched Michael grow up from the infant to a child walking and playing, she found her life was almost not worth living anymore because there was hardly anything to hold onto. She debated doing away with her life just as her mother did before her and soon found a reason to stay once she saw her son smiling and garbling new words. However, she had worse things to think about. She was once again pregnant. She could not tell if this was the third or fourth one. At this point, she did not care anymore.

Leon most certainly was pleased in a way. He hoped that this one would not be a mutant and soon had Danielle tested as soon as he knew, a day in which she hardly remembered. Again, the dictator was assured that this baby was going to be completely human. If it was (and especially if it was a boy), it would supplant Michael, not just in affection, but also his place in line as ruler. Danielle hoped that it would not be the case. Indeed, she was tired of being pregnant constantly. She supposed it was the life of a dictator's wife, but that too was very stressful and hardly a burden to bear. She could not stand it anymore and just wanted it all to go away.

Mae told her to be strong, just as Jay had before Danielle saw him be led away the last time. She also told her to keep calm, even it's for the sake of the new baby. However, there was hardly a chance. Just as July was about the end, Danielle laid in bed one morning and felt the fragile life slipping away from her. She whimpered a little as the pain intensified, not wanting to wake Mae up from her place on the floor, and allowed the blood to pool around her as it thickened. She then closed her eyes, seeing the familiar light at the end of a dark tunnel. She reached for it, wishing that it could stay within her grasp, but something kept her back. She did not know what it was. She did know that someone wanted her to stay alive and it most likely was her brother.

Darkness enveloped her. Dreams plagued her, haunting her at every moment. Most of them involved death, a figure that was always dancing with those who had died before her, the most recent being her mother. Sometimes, she thought she saw Logan too, always so far away from her reach. He too seemed to be walking hand-in-hand with the Grim Reaper too, a goal that he always had and was never able to achieve either. Memories with him then came crashing down, most of them happier times that she no longer could have. The last she had to hold onto, the bystander watching herself just turning eighteen and touching Logan, dancing at Teller's bar and then kissing. It was such a bittersweet time, she knew, and one that she had to keep with her until the end.

In-between all of this, Danielle knew that life went on as normal. However, she did not know what was happening. She recalled Mae over her head several times and whispering this and that thing. In truth, that did not matter. Once her head cleared and she was fully awake, she realized that little had changed. Michael was sleeping soundly next to her, his body overheating her. Mae took to snoozing on the large chair that Ororo used to sleep in when she could not lay in the bed. Outside, summer had turned to an early crisp autumn. The leaves were starting to turn colors although the heat remained and the people were starting to come out again. Although battles had defined the city, it still did not stop businesses from yelling out their goods and for the economy to get back on track.

Danielle croaked for water, something that immediately woke Mae up. In an instant, a slow and steady stream rained down her throat. She was careful not to wake Michael in the process, but looked to Mae to tell her some news. After putting the glass down, Mae sat at the bedside. She had so much to tell Danielle anyway, playing with her red hair that was tinged with a little white and smoothing it away from her sweaty forehead. She noticed that the younger mutant now sported streaks on her head that defined her old age. She hid her dismay, choosing instead to smile at Danielle and try to be positive.

"How…long?" Danielle asked, hoping not to talk much.

"Almost two months," Mae confirmed. "Michael and I have been here the whole time."

Danielle nodded. She figured as much. Leon was not kind to have another person watch his son if he could help it. After all, Michael was a mutant. Mary wasn't going to offer her services if she did not have to.

"My brother has had the grace to back away," Mae continued. "I told him, from a professional and medical point of view, that you might not be able to conceive again. Three miscarriages in a short period of time, especially almost two years of each other, is not healthy. I asked him to stay away from the bed for a while."

Danielle was openly relieved. She did not have to pretend to enjoy sex with Leon for some time. Every time Leon visited her, she always imagined Logan before her and not her husband. The game had yet to be found out, but it was a weight off of her shoulders nonetheless. It meant no more pain and suffering and most certainly no more children.

"We need to find a way to keep you from getting pregnant though," Mae said softly, enough that a microphone couldn't hear. "My brother is not one to turn away. He may have an appetite for women and can find another one if need be, but you are his wife. He has rightful ownership over you, according to his new laws. And finding something that's going to keep you alive and not bleed to death is going to be worse."

Danielle switched the mode of communication, although she felt weak going it. _There's always keeping secrets._

 _What?_ Mae was shocked. _How can you keep secrets in a place like this?_

 _What other choice do we have? In the meantime, while we sit here all day, we can plan an escape._

 _Danielle, you are out of your mind. I think you should rest and seriously think about this._

 _What's there to think about? Besides, it's a sound plan. First thing's first though. Are you allow outside?_

 _No, of course not. Leon would never allow it. Why are you asking?_

 _See? No way for you to get me something from a dark corner in an alleyway. Best to beat Leon at his own game. He keeps many secrets. We can have our own._

Mae shook her head negatively. She could not tell how Danielle was going to pull it off. They both were watched constantly. Keeping an unborn child all hush-hush before leaving was going to be tough. _No_ , it was impossible. Danielle was insane, especially when she thought that they could run away and with Michael too. That little boy was heir to an expanding empire that was supposed to be condemning those like him. Like Danielle, he was state property. It would be a crime to flee and it was a price that Mae did not want to pay.

However, her focus remained the same. She was to ensure that Danielle recovered enough for Leon and hope that her brother would heed her words and not try to get more children off of her. Mae doubted it though. Leon would have what he wanted, when he wanted it, and that was that. She always hoped that Vietnam cured him of that, but he came back worse than he used to be, tougher, stronger and full of more hatred. He had been so obsessed with mutants then, wishing them gone. Now, his greatest desire was coming true…

"What do you think?" Danielle then asked out loud, unable to gauge how Mae felt. She knew the older woman was hesitant on the scheme. It would take time to enact on it anyway, but Danielle thought it worth her while.

"I think you should rest," Mae announced. And that was that.

~00~

It had taken some months before the Canadian border was opened enough to allow some refugees through, although Ellis' guards remained to shoot whoever tried to cross. As soon as Lorna saw the chance, she told Peter to run back and tell Alex. Her brother soon turned into a blur and was off, but Wanda remained behind with Lorna, eying her with concern. The three had been spending more and more time together, most of it scouting the area, and it was something that Lorna did not think would happen and so peacefully too. She could hardly recall the last time they all felt so close together, this trip being so harsh with Scott and Alex so hard on all of them. However, after Alex and Scott decided that they would split up and the three siblings would be in the front, it was the chance to heal. After so many years of fighting, Lorna finally felt peace between herself and the twins.

It was not over though. Although they all harbored some sort of mixed feelings for their mother, Magda's presence was still missed and the thought of her being dead was worse. Although Wanda and Peter did not want to think about the possibility, Lorna pondered it everyday. Every night, she would lay in her bed and close her eyes, dreaming of happier days, when they were a whole family unit and their dad was alive, not the man who was said to be their biological father. All before Peter did that run to the Pentagon…when he went to the school and she and Wanda followed him…when that demonic creature ruined the lives of many humans and mutants…how happily in love she was with Alex…a secret she could not tell Alex…when the discrimination began. Hell, Magda had been targeted because of her children, but for many years had denied them to save herself. When they reconciled initially, it was tough to see her try and embrace one of them. Now, even after some years of rediscovering Magda, Lorna could not imagine life without her.

However, even Lorna knew that this war was long from over. She turned to Wanda, who was also watching the semi-frozen horizon. Like Lorna, she was seeing the space where what seemed like thousands had crowded, trying desperately to get through. There was a line where even Ellis' men could not shoot, but even they were trying their hardest to get what they can. It was chaos down there. Lorna and Wanda both thought that it would be easier if they snuck in at night, but it would be watched more so then. They would have to do it carefully…and they knew just the person to help them the most.

Peter was soon back though, not even five minutes after he left. "Alex said to keep an eye out," he said softly, shuddering when he saw what his sisters did. "He'll come with Jean, Scott and Cable tonight."

"I think we're on the same page then," Wanda remarked dryly. "Tonight will be the night we move."

"If we can get past those guards," Lorna added, winking at Wanda.

"Hey, hey, hey, who said we couldn't get through?" Peter sounded insulted. "I can get through anything. It's just on all of you for the whiplash."

Wanda chuckled. "And the baby?"

"He's what? A year old now? Come on, Wanda. He'll be ok."

"I think Jean will beg to differ on all of those points."

"I'm sure. But hey, we all can't be protective pains in the –"

"Regardless," Lorna interrupted loudly, "we're leaving for Canada soon and we're going to make it."

"You seem confident," Wanda observed solemnly.

"I have hope," Lorna corrected. "And so should you both. We can make it. It's not like we haven't been through worse."

"We have though," Wanda said quietly. "It's just…we haven't seen something on this large scale in some years now. This time, it's not from our end of the species. It's humans that are experimenting on us, torturing us and killing us."

"Need I remind you that we're not the only ones who have this problem? There are a few human camps for those who don't conform." Lorna sounded bitter.

"Well, someone's been pretty far behind on the news," Peter butted in.

The two sisters turned to Peter. "What?" Wanda asked weakly, unsure of what her brother meant.

"Didn't you know?" Peter sounded triumphant that he knew something his sisters did not. "One of the camps has been freed. Almost a year ago now, a couple of people went in, bringing thousands of other guys, and they stormed the place. Nobody was hurt or killed when escaping. Ellis and his guys were canned though."

Lorna immediately thought that perhaps Roger had orchestrated the whole thing. It would have been in character with the master spy. However, it did not mean that their mother was there and had been liberated. She could have been jailed someplace else or was dead. Lorna did not want to think of the latter option. She was best thinking that Magda was someplace safer than they were, albeit incarcerated.

Wanda seemed nervous through her excitement. "That's great news!"

"Yes, it is," Lorna echoed.

Peter grinned. "And you know what the best news of all is?"

"What?" Lorna could not bear more negative thoughts, despite the information they've received.

"Mom is alive," Peter confirmed. "I managed to…umm, let's just say I stole a list of survivors that made it to Canada and are living on the eastern coastline. The Black Serpents and the Canadian government are protecting her and many others like her. She's alive, you two. And she's waiting to see us!"

Lorna found out that she was holding her breath the whole time Peter was talking. She released it, taking another to make sure that she heard what her brother said was correct. Her mother was _alive_? Living in Canada? Waiting for them to come see her? It was too much. It was also a dream come true, too good to be true…

"How do you know the list is not a fraud?" Lorna challenged, trying to push her nagging doubts away.

"We're just going to have to trust it," Peter said. "Look, the past is the past. Whatever is the future is what we have. Whether or not Mom is alive or not, we have to live with that. Besides, I think it's true."

"Me too," Wanda added.

Lorna wanted to continue hoping. She took another deep breath and smiled. "I guess I do too. Now, when did you say Alex was coming?"


	18. Personal Struggles

**September 29, 2000**

The end of summer always brought excitement and newness through the turning of the seasons, the leaves changing to beautiful multiple colors. Not so for those who had been left behind in Salem Center and were now rethinking their strategies and trying to reconfigure what Ellis was scheming. Roger, Logan, Hank and Xavier had been discussing everything in the dining room, arguing over current events and the next step they needed to take once more. Roger had been adamant about striking hard and without mercy. Xavier chalked it up to Mae being kidnapped and Gil and Teller currently residing at the mansion now in relative safety. Circumstances changed within a blink of an eye, he mused. He continued to try and calm Roger down. However, that was not happening and perhaps not anytime soon.

Below them on the underground level were people who were recovering from what Ellis had done to them or those who were escaping him. Mystique had been added to their numbers, although she was coming and going at a rate Xavier could not keep track of (and something that frightened Hank too). She had escaped from Ellis' prison, but did not want to tell anyone where it was, how she managed to leave, how Magneto was and what she was up to without him. They all deducted that she was assisting the Black Serpents (certainly all of them accepted her) and felt happier not saying much.

In the meantime, Mystique had managed to rescue two of the three mutants that Roger had been aiming to nab anyway. Anna Marie, who had restyled herself as Rogue, was a thickly-clothed teenager who could mimic others' powers through her touch and kept a piece of them in her mind (as she described it). Scrawny Bobby Drake, who Colossus had nicknamed Iceman, could turn anything to ice, himself included. The third that Roger had wanted was still missing, last seen in California, escaping a police force that would take her to a camp.

Indeed, Xavier knew that this was going to be a long road, especially with the young teenagers below them. While the Black Serpents had chosen Roger and Chameleon as their leaders, they all (especially those two) still eyed the three below as potential candidates for the fighting. It seemed like it was heading that way too. Although Xavier aimed to keep a peaceful existence at the mansion, especially in light of recent events and people, he expected the occasional youthful stupid acts. That was why he had been at Hank to reprogram the Danger Room when he was ready to.

Not to mention, Xavier saw it as a great opportunity for all of them. To begin as a school again would be great, although the circumstances are now different. To add in that they were the center of activity? Not something he was happy with and something he could not stop, but he could learn to deal with it. He had accepted what Roger was doing so far. Why not more?

In the meantime, their discussion was turning for the worst. As the four seated themselves around the table and talked of what had been happening, Roger became more and more agitated and the words quickly turned heated between all of them. It was enough to feel his helplessness. It was too heavy in the air. He was bitter, Xavier noted, and it was no wonder. News had just came that Mae and Danielle were being moved away from DC and to a secret location, someplace they did not know. Roger had yet to find out where and it was eating at him. It was almost as bad for Logan, who thought that he wasn't going to see Danielle alive again.

At one point, Xavier had to put a hand up to stop the arguing. "I think we all have a goal in mind," he stated plainly, looking at all of them in equal measures. "Each of us have separate objectives in mind, which is something we need to combine into one. First of all, we need news. We have not heard of Alex and his group and Magda. Roger, do you have anything?"

The master spy felt irritated to be put on the spot like that and growled. "Alex made it to Canada," he recounted. "He, as well as Jean and Scott and their son and Lorna, Peter and Wanda, have passed through the border from Alaska and made it. Last location is unknown. However, they are still traveling across the country. My guess is that they are trying to find Magda, who is in New Brunswick. From there, I'm sure Alex will either decide to join us or wait until this is all over. However, I am thinking I am persuade him to help us this time. Might need a few months though."

Xavier nodded. "What do you have now on Ellis?"

"Still planning on Mexico. His armies are heading south as we speak."

"Which leaves what for Canada exactly?"

"The remaining forces. Ellis has yet to decide whether or not he's heading our way again or not. Since Westchester has been off-limits to him and Shannon Mitchell has been buried, there's not much for him here anymore. The people of Salem Center have been forced to stay within town limits and they cannot escape to him or join his armies. Anyone we see that leaves and we capture has been sent to jail. Not too many people there now."

"I understand that this area is within your control with Chameleon, Roger. However, it doesn't quite answer my question."

"Well, I would assume that Ellis is allowing his cousin to take control over the forces in Canada. That's as far as I can tell. However, Ellis is withholding it for the time being, deciding who he wants to cream us still. He liked the Ferris family well enough, who has been sticking around Trask until the company went under. There are two brothers who are competing for Ellis' affection. He likes playing with them both though and trying to egg one against the other."

"Fun," Logan commented sarcastically.

Roger looked at him severely. "You're telling me. With so much confusion and information not filtering my way, I can't get much. However, I do have someone cleaning out Peter's house. Got a lot of juicy gossip on him."

"Oh?" For the first time in a few minutes, Hank spoke calmly.

"Yeah, enough to make your little blue hairs curl," Roger challenged. "The least of it is that Peter likes the ladies and a little too much and his wife isn't happy about it. Mary was even ghastly enough to rip the hair off of another woman's head before she left the bedroom. Anyway, lately, Peter has been petitioning to his cousin that, in case of his untimely death, since Michael has been declared a mutant like us, that he himself inherits the dictatorship."

"What?" Logan was amazed. "What gives him the right?"

"Nothing," Roger reassured him. "However, Danielle is in hot water if Ellis plans on taking this route. It's sound and makes political sense. He can blame all of the doctors for telling him that his son would be human and his wife would be blamed for genetics. Last I heard, which was yesterday by the way, Ellis was contemplating bringing back burnings. He's already made executions on sight legal for his men who are in charge. You know, people like his cousin and the Ferris brothers. So, if they suspected anything or if their people underneath prove something, then boom! They're dead on sight. No final words or goodbyes."

Hank put a hand to his mouth in shock. "There's no legal way –"

"Since when has Ellis given a fucking shit to legality?" Roger interrupted rudely, banging his fist on the table. This even startled Xavier and Logan. "He means to destroy us all. In case you haven't noticed, Hank, this is a war. War means death. It's either him or us. We have fought over how to handle this. Quite honestly, I believe that we are on the right pathway and that assassinating the whole Ellis family is the way to go. Now, we just need to see if Teller can reopen his business and call it a day. That would establish something in this town other than disgruntled people."

"Why bother?" Logan wondered. "There are no supplies and it's the same cover we had before."

"The Black Market is a wonderful thing and one that protects their own," Roger said darkly. "Teller has his hands with them already. All of them are grabbing trucks left and right that was supposed to go to the people…or to Ellis, I should say. While this place starves, the people are watch as the glutton makes his march."

Xavier had enough of the negativity. "Roger, should we ask the Canadian government for more people on their side?"

"I would, just in case," Hank added.

Roger nodded, standing up. "I agree. Chameleon can do that. He has been whining for it anyway. So, while he works on that, I'll be out searching for Mae and then bringing her home. Maybe in-between all of this bullshit, once I see that Alex has been reunited with Magda, then I'll talk to him. If he's mushy enough, I might have to sneak in something."

"And Danielle?" Logan asked loudly.

Annoyed, Roger turned to Logan. "Yes, even Danielle and her son are going to be picked up eventually. Don't get me wrong, Logan. I love her as much as I can. Known her since she was born. However, my wife comes first in my book. Taking the dictator's family comes second. Understand?"

"I understand." Logan felt cross, but calmed down when Xavier reached a hand under the table and patted his hand in reassurance. He did not need to be reminded that Danielle and Michael might be sacrifices in this war.

Roger walked out of the dining room, leaving behind an aura of relief. Xavier and Hank most certainly felt the anger behind the master spy's words. Even the heated discussion they had was enough to end plans for the day. However, the two were worried about Logan, more so than ever before. Each person that has been rescued has taken a little more weight off of his shoulders. Now, with the one person he loved in so much danger and worse than ever before, he was as helpless as Roger. Not as full of wrath, but the two were counting on Logan exploding in one form or another. There was no doubt that he was holding in a lot. Xavier predicted that there would be a bloody end and Logan would be the one to finish it off.

 _All in the name of this war._ Xavier shuddered.

"Now that Roger left, we have our own business to conduct," Hank said, getting Xavier and Logan's attention. "While he and Chameleon are busy with Canada, Mae and Alex, we need to keep busy ourselves. Roger mentioned Teller getting back on his feet. The place is still his, although I think it quite dangerous. However, if he's planning on getting his footing again, then we need some support. Logan, what do you think of the kids downstairs?"

"Not ready," Logan confirmed. "Rogue and Bobby are too interested in each other right now and Colossus seems anxious to leave. If I had to choose, Tin Man would be the one to come along."

"He's been here the longest too," Xavier reminded everyone. "I agree. Colossus can go."

Hank nodded. "Ok then. Now, Teller picks the bar up again…and then what? Are we using him as a base of operations for outside this place? An alternative sanctuary for those who need it? We cannot just use it the same way as before. It would bring Teller peril."

Xavier conceded. "Yes, I suppose we can use it anyway we can. He had been housing runaway mutants before and gave them to us if he felt he saw the potential or he could not control them. After Vinnie Paul, I suppose he feels it easier to send them here. In which case, we can build what we have. The world needs us more than it realizes."

The mention of the murdered double agent almost made Logan blind with rage, but he controlled it with even breathing. "I can go as well. I know the schedules of the trucks and can help rebuild Teller's place."

Hank and Xavier exchanged quick glances. "Are you sure?" Hank asked, thinking that the place would bring Logan memories of a time he felt the happiest. "I mean, there are reports that Canada needs people to –"

"I'll go there when you need me," Logan interrupted as gently as he could, although he wanted to snap. "Right now, I think I need to be here. If I leave for Canada now, you might not have the same chances if I stayed."

"Like what?" Xavier could not see what Logan was.

"Well, for starters, someone to stay behind to direct traffic and someone who knows Teller's place and the people of this town. Admit it, Professor. You and the Fuzzball have never been through a war like this. Destruction on a large scale, I can allow. A war on this level and nationwide too isn't something you're accustomed to."

"I can see that, Logan."

"I'm not finished, Professor. Right now, I have a love/hate relationship with the government of Canada. It's home, but it's one that likes using me. I won't go until it's needed and we know it'll turn the tide to our side. With the information we have, Peter Ellis isn't going to be easy to defeat and he probably will procrastinate. It gives me time."

"This is also more personal, I would assume."

Logan hesitated, not wanting to reveal much, even though his thoughts always raced. "Yes, more so than I thought."

Hank and Xavier figured as much. _What do you think?_ Hank was curious.

Xavier smiled, hoping that Logan did not suspect that he and Hank were talking behind his back. _I believe that we should leave Logan to his plans. They are sound._

 _And Danielle? Do you think he'll do something rash for her?_

 _Time will tell. I think that, if we keep him busy, he'll not want to try Ellis' patience._

 _Charles, time is running out. How much longer can we keep Logan occupied and Ellis' forces behind their lines?_

 _With Teller here, it might be a few years. Leave it to me._

"I understand how difficult this is for you, Logan, and I can hardly imagine the pain," Xavier started again once he and Hank were on the same page. "However, I need you to be focused. Chameleon might ask for help soon. I need you ready when he does. In the meantime, Hank and I think you're right. Stay here."

These were words that Logan thought he wasn't going to hear. He was ready for another fight about where he needed to be and why. It was exhausting enough with Roger so worried about Mae being in her brother's hands and Gil still working out his issues. Now, he could breathe easily. There was a way for him to forget things. He could not be cooped up any longer and that was a relief. Colossus was getting antsy and there was so much he could do with Rogue and Bobby. He was hoping Ororo, Fiona and Matthew would recover soon and help, but that was a long shot. The three could hardly stand let alone play defense and it would be some time before they could.

Logan guessed that, in the meantime, Hank and Xavier could handle the teenaged pair and keep an eye on for Ororo, Matthew and Fiona. He could pick up Colossus and Teller and they could start over again. If Gil wanted to come along, Logan wasn't going to stop him. He was a quiet guy and happy just playing with electronics, but one more man wasn't going to kill any plans. He had to smile though. It was finally all coming together.

"I think that we're all beginning to get somewhere," Logan only said, hoping to conclude their meeting with that.


	19. You Ready to Go?

**December 31, 2000**

Danielle had been packing and unpacking for over three months now. In September, Leon had announced that she, Michael and Mae were going to be transported to another location and stay away from the capital for some time because of revolutionary activity. In addition, Leon said that he was giving the drug lords of Mexico a lesson and was going south to battle them. After all, it was said that they did not want to be controlled and did not appreciate him dealing with their government and attempting a takeover. In the meantime, while Canada waged their own battles from coast to coast and adding all of the northern states to the Black Serpents' conquests, Leon had decided that Peter was going to head another army against the north.

Those days were long and boring, more so than ever before. News of this sort usually had them up and going in seconds, although their hopes were dashed when they were told they were staying. It was not healthy for them either, especially since they were restricted more than ever before. Worse, Leon was making the three suffer in their room without air. He ordered their windows closed and the blinds shut, leaving them in darkness. The guards were ordered to shoot if they saw any one of them peek through.

It was enough to make them all go insane, especially Michael, who was over two years old and already wanting to explore everything. Three tedious months had made the toddler cry in frustration many times, his garbled words conveying to the two women that he was growing up too fast and that he needed help in overcoming the challenges. It was with relief that he was talking, walking and developing as a toddler should, but the lack of freedom made it impossible for him to get past that stage. Danielle and Mae thought many times over that Michael should be with children his age and running around a playground. That already had been shot down by Leon.

This new millennium was not coming together as good as they all thought. The new year was soon coming to an end though and the year 2001 would be upon them, one that was not bringing much hope. Danielle yearned for the changes that might happen, although she doubted it would occur. In the meantime, as she packed what she hoped was the last time for a while, she listened to the fireworks outside. Leon had organized a party downstairs for everyone, perhaps as another sort of farewell for the old year, and did not invite her or Michael. He gave out that she was ill, which she had been for some time anyway, and would not be able to come. It was of no consequence anymore, Danielle knew. She was going to disappear.

Soon, she and Mae had finished packing when they heard a knock on the door. Normally, they did not have that courtesy. What would have happened was a guard would stomp on the door and unlock it with no apologies, no matter what they were doing. The two quickly exchanged glances before deciding what to do. Mae went for the door and Danielle went to Michael, who was sleeping in his crib, now converted into a daybed. As soon as Danielle nodded her head for assent, Mae yelled shakily that it was ok to enter. They both heard the knob jiggle before it was ajar with a face peering in. It was Peter.

Mae backed away from the door slowly and allowed Peter to come inside the room. He closed it behind him, glaring at the two women in what appeared to be sympathy. It was uncharacteristic of Peter, which made everyone wary. Finally, Danielle reached out and tried to see what was happening and was met with resistance. She knew then and there that this was not Peter, who was easy to read. It was Mystique disguised as Leon's cousin.

Mystique soon revealed herself soon enough, just as the cameras and microphones went off in the room. "Good. I have you both here."

Mae sighed in relief. "Thank heavens, it's you!"

Danielle smiled weakly. "It's good to see a familiar face. What happened to you? I thought you and Magneto were buried in the dungeons long ago."

"We'll discuss that later." Mystique was down to business. "I don't have much time. They'll discover that Peter Ellis is home within the hour and that your room isn't being monitored. Now, the main reason why I'm here is because that dictator sent me, thinking I was his cousin. He wanted to let you know that you're finally moving tomorrow."

"Where?" Mae was anxious, wringing her hands.

"California," Mystique confirmed. "I don't know exactly where, but that's the final destination. All the states around it are armed and are supportive. It might be the ideal route before we get you both out of here."

"What? When How?" Danielle wanted all of the details. The statements were hopeful, something she so desperately needed.

"Those will come when I have them," Mystique cautioned, seeing how excited Danielle was. She even put her hands up in defeat, calming the younger mutant down. "However, I need you both to cooperate with me. I have been assigned to be a maid and that's enough for now. Jubilee has been a messenger here for a couple of years now, somebody your husband seems to trust. She's quick and prompt and kisses very well, from what I've been told."

"She's always been a suck-up," Mae reminded Danielle.

"I remember," Danielle said with a snicker.

"Anyway, things will be tighter," Mystique reminded them. "As soon as you've been sent away from here, security will be worse. However, Roger is working on changing the guards a little. Within maybe a year or so, they would be happy to help you both escape."

Mae beamed when she heard Roger mentioned. "Nothing we need to do?"

"Exactly, so keep the faith." Mystique appeared grim, but not crushed. "Have some hope, as Charles would say. We'll get you all out of here. The Black Serpents have been successful in getting the northern states on their side. From Maine to Washington, we've got control. It'll be a matter of time before that changes. Once it does, we can set up something more permanent and regain what we've lost."

Soon, Mystique transformed into Peter Ellis and left, joining a group that was outside the door and joking with them. By then, everything was turned back on and nobody had been the wiser. This made Mae and Danielle more optimistic than ever before. It had been too long since they had heard good news. Indeed, moving to another location was a nuisance, but there were plans to get them out. That was good enough.

Danielle looked from Michael to Mae. "You ready to go?"

"As I'll ever be," Mae replied cheerfully, heading towards the crib and picking up Michael, rocking him for the comfort she needed. Although Mystique had given them more than what was wished, there was still a nagging doubt in the back of her mind and that wasn't well. Best not to tell Danielle just yet.

~00~

Roger stood against the cold wind of the snowstorm outside, smoking a cigarette he knew he should quit as he waited patiently enough. He had secured the house in the middle of nowhere, Canada for some months now and used it as a base for the north, when the Black Serpents members (now numbered in the millions between the US and Canada) gathered for their instructions. It was a matter of time before Alex and his group made it this way. Roger should know. The main road where ninety-nine percent of all refugees walked was about a half mile from this place. He's also had enough people to feed for a lifetime.

Squinting, Roger made out a few figures through the white wall. Hating the snow and dreading who was coming now, he put out the cigarette and stood there, feeling the snow drift into his coat. Finally, he managed to count out three figures, all of them adults and one of them holding a bundle. Roger was not a suspicious man by nature, but if he was correct (and he usually was), one of them was carrying a child.

Immediately, the master spy went to work. He took a nearby shovel and cleared out a wider pathway, anticipating more people coming and all of them crowding the walkway. He then went back inside, tracking snow into the house as he went to the fireplace and threw in more logs. He beelined for the door again as he kicked off his boots and winter gear, leaving it open a crack as the group came forward. Roger could not recognize two of the three people, but he knew the last one by sight.

Not wanting to be noticed instantly, Roger only opened the door wider and welcomed them all in without showing his face. He was right in saying that one of them was carrying a child, maybe a year old and warmer than his mother. Quickly, the woman unwrapped her clothing alone (keeping her child in its own), expressing thanks for their nightly shelter, and soon gasped. She nudged her companions and they all turned to Roger.

"Roger, do I need to ask why you're here?" Jean Grey inquired, holding onto her child closer.

"Possibly being his normal being personality," Alex said as an answer, snickering.

"Whatever that is," Scott added.

"Glad to know I'm still surrounded by troublemakers," Roger replied, grinning as he did. "Sit, sit. I'll get some food for all of you. Kid eat solid food?"

Jean nodded as a confirmation. Roger took this as a hint. As the four of them settled before the fire, he went into the kitchen and heated up some leftovers from the day before that the last group of refugees did not manage to finish. Separating it all into four plates, he carried the plates and handed them out, giving Jean the smallest for the baby. For half an hour, they all sat in silence, the flames crackling loudly. While Scott and Jean were very protective of each other and their child and kept to themselves, Alex stole glances at Roger every now and then. He had been working with Roger before Ellis' rise to power. It had been strange to study the other now, almost four years later, and see physical changes that reminded them of getting older.

When everyone was heated and full, Roger began. "What's going on?"

"You sitting here, expecting us to come, is a bit creepy, don't you think?" Scott asked in return.

"I had to do something with my time when Mae isn't around." Roger shrugged his shoulders. "You gonna tell me or I am playing true or false?"

"We're hoping to find Magda," Alex revealed. "We heard she was in New Brunswick."

"She is," Roger allowed, feeling the news was not surprising and was quite old. "Logan and I freed her camp and sent the list of survivors to Canada and the Black Serpents. She migrated on her own from there."

Jean smiled. "Glad to hear you're all so busy."

"As busy as ever, Jean. Thanks for observing he obvious."

"Some people don't change. What can I say?"

"You can say how glad you are to see me. At this point though, you're going to love me because I am such a nice guy, I am going to provide you faster transportation to get east than walking in this winter wonderland. Sound good?"

"When Lorna, Peter and Wanda come, then yes, I think we can accept."

Both Alex and Scott shot Jean looks, something that amused Roger. Oh, yes, the two are still so mistrustful of him and always annoyed. Alex just tolerated Roger enough because Xavier said so. They had enough history going back forty years and most of it involved sarcastic banters and some fistfights. On the other hand, Scott had yet to talk. Roger had to put up with him being a double agent for a couple of years and that was tough. He was younger and immature then, untested in the face of danger. He probably heard enough from his brother to keep his opinion bias anyway. Seemed to be a Summers' trait though, being cocky and not having all the facts.

"Where are those three anyway?" Roger did not notice the snow kicking up fast when he was outside, something that would have indicated that Peter was nearby.

"Behind us," Alex confirmed. "I had them at the rear. Well, it was Scott's idea. They had been in the front for too long and Peter was impatient. He hated walking and I had to do something. So, we decided that we had to teach him a lesson and it was best to keep him with his sisters."

Roger laughed loudly. "How appropriate."

"For once, I agree with you, Roger. They'll be along shortly. We had a few…people following us. Seems that Ellis is sending out men to search for the most wanted."

"He might be excited that I'm nearby then."

"You're on the top of his wanted list."

"I know. Mae being with her brother tells me a lot."

Alex, Scott and Jean were dumbfounded. "I'm so sorry," Jean offered sadly, suddenly feeling Roger's pain. She also felt so helpless, unable to give Roger much comfort.

"It's no matter." Roger waved his hand in dismissal and hide behind a façade once more. "Bringing down Ellis is. Now, every northern state on the Canadian border is in our hands. Some states down are ours. We have millions of people willing to unite this country again."

"We get that," Scott said in annoyance.

"Yeah, well, what you don't get is that we need every person onboard," Roger retorted. "You're a man of your word and honor, Scott, just like what your brother taught you. Are you willing to take that and show your kid what it means to stand up and fight?"

Scott looked to Alex. "Protection is more on my mind," Scott admitted.

"And you shall have it," Roger promised. "You can meet Magda and work. What do you say?"

Again, Alex and Scott considered at each other. Alex nodded to Scott. It seemed a good idea, they thought. They would have a home base, wherever that was, and Roger could give them assignments. However, Scott did not want to leave Jean for long periods of time. Alex did not want to do the same with Lorna too. The both of them wanted peace as much as the next person, but not on their full time nickel and dime. They were willing to negotiate with Roger. It was easier that way.

"We do this, it comes on my terms," Alex said. " _Mine_ alone. You understand?"

Roger nodded, taking a seat opposite of Alex. "Ok, hotshot, tell me. I'm listening."


	20. Perhaps a Key to a Time Rift

**May 29, 2023**

Danielle was so tired and felt like she needed some sleep. Even after two more days with no electric power and another storm that passed through (hopefully the last for a while), she felt like a truck ran her over. She smiled through it all in the meantime, hoping that nobody would notice it. However, on the inside, she was feeling a new emotional pain that she never knew existed. She concluded that it was a part of her. There was no doubt about it because the feelings were hers, but from another time and place maybe. In either case, it made her nervous, more so than the power still being out and her older sons unable to travel to see her.

Doing her usual rounds down in the living room, she aimlessly walked around, addressing the usual things and even scolding a child for trying to climb the walls using their mutation. She ran into Daken once on the second time around, reminding him about his schoolwork, and she ignored Celeste completely. That wasn't much trouble anyway. Celeste was more interested in her friends and purposely rolled her eyes when she saw her mother. _That_ most likely had something to do with Ororo separating Celeste from her friends and the argument she got into with Danielle about it.

Even if the fight was a couple of days ago, it still annoyed the mother who used to be so rebellious. Celeste was so upset over being away from her friends that she pointed the finger at Danielle and informed that (on the top of her lungs) that she hated her. Danielle informed Celeste calmly that if she didn't disturb her classes so much, it wouldn't happen. Of course, this prompted the teenager to run to Logan in the next room, who also played the bad guy and sided with Danielle, although his soothing words made Celeste love him all the more.

Just as Danielle left the living room, Jean stopped her. She pulled her friend to one side and away from the children, her face very grave. Danielle did not bother reading her. Oddly enough, she did not want to know. The way Jean looked at her was very accusing, like it was her fault that something happened. It might be, Danielle conceded, for all that was going on lately.

"The Professor needs to talk to you in his office now," Jean started. "Fiona is also there."

"What? Why?" Hearing that her sister-in-law was there made Danielle nervous.

Jean did not seem like she was in the mood for questions, clarifying the situation quickly. "She needs an explanation from you. This morning, Jay got up and suddenly collapsed. Fiona was not able to wake him up, although he was still breathing. However, she was horrified to find out that he appeared in every way to be wounded…by a few gunshots wounds."

Danielle gulped. "Jean –"

"I don't want to hear it," Jean interrupted. "Save it for the Professor and Fiona. Come on."

Danielle took one last glance at her children. Daken and Celeste were busily chatting with their friends. She guessed that they would be ok for the time being. Logan wasn't in sight and mentioned that he would be researching anyway. While sure that he could check on them eventually (since he tried being so involved in their lives), she followed Jean down the hallway into Xavier's office. She then closed the door behind her, seeing that the meeting was going to be short because of high tension. Sitting in a chair before Xavier's desk, Fiona appeared devastated. Her face betrayed dried tears on her cheeks and reddened eyes and nothing more. However, she stared at Danielle with suspicion.

"I would need you to start explaining what's been happening, Danielle," Xavier began, unsure of how else to. "I have told as much as I could of the story. I believe you can finish where I could not."

"I would not know where I can pick the story up," Danielle protested, sitting in a chair next to Fiona. She took her sister-in-law's hands into hers for comfort. "I guess I can start on that morning…"

"When Logan was acting strange?" Fiona asked in a whisper, taking her hands out of Danielle's.

"Yes," Danielle admitted. "I'm sure the Professor has told you that Logan's…well, his _consciousness_ anyway…came from a different time and place, where the future was destitute. Since then, I have been trying to piece together our past for him. Jay had to be in the loop because of obvious reasons. However, as time has passed and we've used our powers more and more, we have discovered that their past and ours seem to be merging."

"What?" This confused even Jean.

Danielle showed her arm with the black widow tattoo. "This has never happened before. In Logan's other past, it did."

"Would that mean that…that Jay is dead in the other?" Fiona could not believe it.

"I think Logan would be the best to answer those questions," Danielle quickly amended. "I think he would be able to determine what happened to everyone."

"So, would this mean that, whatever he did not affects what we have now?" Jean wondered.

"It could be," Xavier conceded. "But what can be done is also undone. The underlining cause might be the memories of the past now. If they are shown to one who came from another world, then it's highly possible that Logan's memories of another time are merging. His consciousness from then was not supposed to belong here unless showing him the past has brought it up."

Everyone then looked to Danielle. "It could be," she echoed. "It would also be something else that is part of our mutation. It's worth looking into."

"It might also mean life and death," Jean reminded Danielle. "Right now, Jay is acting like he's alive, but in a coma like he's dead. The wounds have been cleaned out. They don't seem lift-threatening, although they are nasty."

"Let me talk to Logan then," Danielle begged, seeing no other solution. Worrying was going nowhere. "I can ask him what happened. I'm pretty sure he can remember that."

Xavier nodded, agreeing, although Danielle had a suspicion that he knew everything anyway. Fiona echoed the sentiment, tears threatening to come down her face again as she shooed her sister-in-law away. Jean, on the other hand, was not convinced that this would help. She had to trust Danielle though. There was no other choice.

Without further ado, Danielle left, confident that she would receive some answers soon. Using whatever powers she had left (there wasn't enough since Jay was dormant), she located Logan in the library. She shut the door behind her upon arrival, following his scent to a table where he was reading a book. He noticed her quickly and closed it, fingering it like it was precious. He put it down though, seeing the seriousness on Danielle's face. She sat down across from him, her eyes bearing into his intensely.

"I need you to tell me everything you can about your other past," Danielle said baldly.

"Why?" This startled Logan.

"Because there are things going on that we can't explain and I think you can."

"Want me to go back to the beginning?"

"That would be great, thanks. I know of it. Repeating won't kill the suspense."

Logan ignored Danielle's sarcasm. "I didn't stumble upon this place until maybe 2001 or 2002 and it was by accident. Rogue ran away from home and decided to sneak into my trailer. I decided to take her along with me. We got into an accident and Storm and Scott picked us up. From there, it's been a bumpy ride."

"You didn't know me then." Danielle seemed incredulous that Rogue was the first Logan met. She also seemed to forget that Logan told her this already.

"No," Logan admitted again. "The Professor introduced us. I thought he did it on purpose too, just for laughs. He seemed to think that we would be a good couple…and we were, I guess…but there was something wrong with the picture. First off, you were pregnant with Riley. The second was that you were still married to Leon Ellis."

Danielle's hand flew to her mouth, shocked. "No."

"Yes," Logan continued, "except he wasn't a dictator then. He was just a plain senior senator who tagged his cousin to the House and helped to make gradual changes that made the future that I came from. He nearly killed you a few times. So did Peter."

"What happened next?" Danielle was more than shocked and seemed so sucked into the story.

Logan shrugged his shoulder in indifference. "A bittersweet relationship that ended up here."

"That doesn't answer much, Logan."

"Why do you need to know?"

"Jay…there's something wrong with him. He woke up this morning, got up and fell. Jean said that he had gunshot wounds. Not life threatening, she thinks, but he's in a coma. He might even die."

This made Logan freeze. First, he noticed that claw marks on Danielle's arm. An accident on his part from another lifetime ago, but nonetheless a little disturbing. Now, it was Jay. Stories from his other life told to him painted a picture of a cocky, drunk ex-Army bar bouncer who introduced his sister to many things when she was young and immature, turning her into an assassin before she was eighteen, much as it was now. By then, one night after a performance at Teller's bar, the two were betrayed by the bar owner and ambushed by Ellis and his forces. Danielle was detained and sold to marriage, but Jay was a prisoner not worth keeping alive. Ellis shot Jay several times as he laughed and eventually died on the kitchen floor.

"God," Logan muttered, the only thing he could.

"Logan, this is serious," Danielle protested in a whisper, toning it down when she saw some students pass them. Sh waited until they were out of earshot before continuing. "It could be that your past and this are coming together. We need to figure out why this is happening and why. It could be me and Jay that are causing this. Who knows? Our powers are so vast –"

"I understand that," Logan cut in. "I have yet to show you anything. A time rift never existed."

"It seems like this was done multiple times and was disturbed after you came."

"For small periods of time, people went back to the past, yes. We went back a day or two at the most. Not fifty years, which is what I did."

"That could be it then. It's a far stretch."

"Yeah, and one that you and your brother are now feeling."

"It's a better-explained and expanded theory than what we had. Now, we need to figure out how to fix it. Who was the one who sent you back to the past?"

Logan paused. "Kitty. I believe Rogue also took over after a while too."

"I don't believe it," Danielle replied. " _Kitty Pryde_? Mousy little Kitty?"

Logan nodded. "Yeah. I couldn't believe it either."

"It makes me wonder what she knows. If she has powers like that…" Danielle let it trail there.

"She told me that I was going to be the only person who will remember," Logan mused. "If her, you, Rogue and Jay seem to be the key to opening this supposed time rift, then you four can close it."

"Could be." Danielle shrugged her shoulders this time. "Care to take a walk before we check on our wayward children?"

"I think we should." Logan got up, linking his arm into Danielle's as she did the same. "Let's just hope Kitty is alone."

"And doesn't think we're crazier than we are now," Danielle added, laughing as they left the library.

* * *

 **I just want to put in a quick apology here for the lack of updates. I'll try my hardest to get the chapters out faster. However, I do want to thank everyone for reading. I appreciate it greatly. :)**


	21. Scientific Fantasies

Kitty had been pretty bored for several days now. With a lack of things to teach and with the school year so close to ending, she could not help but allow her students free rein of the place. Classes had been cancelled because they could not power up the electricity. She and Colossus had so few things to lecture everyone with and the last of it was delayed by something as trivial as the weather and lack of maintenance. He even agreed that they would have gone on field trips in June if the Professor would allow it. They even would have joined Hank in the woods too if they could get away with it.

Indeed, it was just too boring with so few things they would utilize these days. Everything was electronic, making most of the past's items obsolete and considered wasteful. Kitty missed it, longing for the days when she would sit under a tree and Colossus would sketch her on plain paper and pencil. Those times had been the most precious to her, just after Ellis had been disposed and assassinated and the country had been trying to pull itself together and find a good leader to bring them to better times. Nobody had been paying her much attention anyway, since her job was completed and the world seemed to be saved, and it left her to her own devices with Colossus. It was just them and nothing more.

Sitting in her classroom alone, Kitty decided that she should grade some essays she assigned some time ago and had not handed back yet. Sighing, she took out every device of her students' and started reading them. Her own beeped that it was low on battery power and needed to be charged soon. Kitty ignored that, using it as much as she could before it completely died. Afterward, she just read through each one, marking mistakes when she could and writing the grade on the device itself. She resolved to record it later and then give them back to discuss.

 _If this power came back on. Dammit._ Kitty was amazed by how incompetent a utility company can still be in this day and age. _Ridiculous!_

Finishing up, Kitty was startled to see Logan and Danielle come in suddenly. The latter closed the door behind her and the former took a seat before Kitty's desk, sitting in the chair backwards. If Kitty could place Logan a hundred and fifty years younger, she could swear that he appeared in every way a child with an attitude. She imagined him in clothes for a teenager and a ball cap that was backwards and soon was struggling to keep from laughing. However, the way the two came in and the seriousness on both of their faces indicated that this was no social call. Kitty kept her cool and smiled in a professional way, just as she was taught to do.

"We need to talk," Danielle started, sitting in a chair next to Logan, although she did not copy her husband. "I take it nobody will be bothering us for a while?"

"Colossus is coming in twenty minutes to discuss our classes," Kitty offered, indicating that time was short. "We're going over some of the students' work and hopefully continue with the last chapter when we get power again."

"Good," Logan growled. "It's enough time."

"What's with you?" Kitty blurted out at Logan, a question that she had been aching to ask for some days now. She regretted her lack of professionalism and damned her mouth. "You were fine until that morning you came out in pajamas. What's happened?"

"A long story that we're cutting short," Danielle dismissed, dreading that they now had to make another person privy to the issue. "I think it's best that Logan explains this."

Logan felt the same way as Danielle, taking a deep breath. "Would you believe me if I said I came from another time and place?"

"What?" Kitty was almost rendered speechless.

"I came from a future with no hope," Logan continued. "Trask had developed the Sentinel program and they rendered the world destitute after a period of time. You sent me back in time to change that, to make sure that an assassination of Bolivar Trask did not happen and propel the program out. The last I remembered was drowning and then being here."

Kitty was confused. "Your… _consciousness_ …?"

"Was sent back to the past to change the future, which is the one we have now," Logan clarified once more. "By _you_."

Kitty had to admit that this was strange and would explain why Logan was locked up with first the Professor and then Danielle several times and for many hours too. It would also explain why Danielle appeared like she was sick, using her powers as she did with her brother. However, it doesn't tell her why the pair were allowing her to hear the big secret. It did remind her of something though. On the day this happened, Kitty did have some strange dream that had her waking up in a sweat. Although Peter, her Colossus, was still asleep next to her and still a reassuring presence that lulled her back to a peaceful slumber, Kitty soon forgot about the nightmare…until now.

All Kitty recalled of the surreal situation was how cold and tired she was. She had been slumped in a stone corner of what appeared to be a Chinese monastery, far away from what she knew. Colorful panes of glass reflected upon the light playing upon the scene. However, even she knew in that dream that it was dark and forbidding out there. Around her were grim and serious faces of people she never thought would be together in the same room. First, there were the Professor and his "old friend" of many years, Magneto. Then, there was Danielle and her two youngest children, watching in a corner at something Kitty could hardly see through the sweat in her eyes.

Her vision was blurry, she recalled, and it chanced once to see what Danielle was looking at briefly. It was Logan. He was laying on a stone bed. Sitting behind his head was Rogue, holding onto something with all of her might…two blue lights at each of Logan's ears…saying something akin to her hold was not strong and it won't be long before things were changed, she hoped. Kitty could not remember the rest of it, although she felt terrified and deeply depressed. She was thinking about Bobby of all people and how she longed to hold him. She was scared of what was happening outside because the noise was getting closer and closer. It was a losing battle for survival.

And that was when Kitty woke up. It had been three in the morning and she had a class to teach in five hours. It was too easy to curl back up with Colossus and sleep for the next three hours. However, now that Danielle and Logan had mentioned something though, everything was starting to make sense. The last puzzle piece was given to her and it was complete.

"I do have the ability to send someone to the past," Kitty admitted, something that the Professor told her to keep quiet. They decided that years ago since many people might ask her to change something in their past and that alone would destroy them. "We decided that, since it was changing people and places and it didn't seem moral, we weren't going to continue with exploring it."

"And there's no way of going back to what Logan had then," Danielle observed.

"Exactly," Kitty said. "Every time it's used, whatever changes in that time frame that happen will ultimately alter the future. I could love someone now and if another person went into the past and did something to tweak it, a new ripple in the water is made. My feelings might be for another person."

"We believe there's a rift somewhere," Danielle revealed. "By showing Logan what happened in this past, we believe that somehow, where he came from and this lifetime have been merged because some sort of portal might have been left open."

Kitty had to laugh at the absurdity of the idea. "Sounds very science fiction to me."

"Mutation is evolution and a very scientific matter."

"I have to say you're right on that aspect."

"So, if you want to think about it, everything we do and have is still impossible."

"True again. However, I don't see how I can help."

"Telling you might give you an idea. Did you feel anything the night before Logan came out? Remember anything that seemed out of place?"

"Nothing I can think of," Kitty lied flawlessly, thinking it none of their business to know about her dream, especially when it might not have anything to do with what happened, no matter how unbelievable it is. "If I do, I'll let you know immediately. Anything I can do to help, let me know too."

"I think we will." Logan got up, feeling like they were finished. "Stick around and be available."

Kitty saw it as a threat from Logan. Then again, he was always full of those and was still as gruff too. "You can count on that."

Danielle stood up as well, leaving with Logan just as they saw Colossus walk down the hallway and enter the classroom they were just in. They turned to the stairwell and headed upstairs to their bedroom. However, before Logan could open the door, Danielle stopped him gently with the touch of her hand.

"I'll join you in a few minutes," she said quietly. "I want to visit Jay first and check on the kids and I'll be up. I'm sure Celeste would love to see you before she gets into trouble again."

Logan shook his head. "I understand. However, I think I smell a rat."

"You too?" Danielle suspected as much. "I think Kitty was truthful until the end. I think she knows more than she's letting on."

"I agree. Even if she didn't get it at first, I think she connected some dots and figured it all out."

"I wasn't able to read her even if I tried. Even so, she seemed protective of herself. We'll find out more soon enough, Logan. I wouldn't worry about it."

"You coming back soon?"

"Give me an hour max. I'm checking on everyone and coming right back up, I promise."

Logan nodded. Danielle took this as his assent and left, carefully sneaking down to the infirmary on the basement level. She entered, ignoring Mae at her desk and Jean in her office. They both noted that she was here and left her to her own devices, thinking she was yelled at enough for her foolishness over the years. That was just fine with Danielle. She found Jay quickly, hooked up to a life support device in the corner. Given privacy behind a curtain, Jay was hardly breathing on his own, his body bruised from all of the wires and needles stuck there to make it happen. Keeping back her dismay, Danielle took the seat that Fiona most likely sat before, holding Jay's least wired hand tightly.

What Danielle did not expect was an overwhelming feeling of darkness and death, enough to make her vomit. She took her hand away, rubbing the cold off of it, and tried again. This time, she probed deeper and controlled her bodily screams, passing all of that and the memories of now to see the ones from another time. And they were there all right, even though Jay might not be aware of it. Deep inside, there were images of a man who lost his wife to a car accident for real, received a hardship discharge because of it, lost his son to Child Services and spent the rest of his life drunk. He, as well as Roger, taught his sister to be an assassin, creating a monster inside of her that he always regretted, just as he'd done now. He did not like bringing his younger sister into the troubles that he knew were coming, but she had to learn.

And that was where it ended. There was nothing after a short twenty-eight years on this Earth. Danielle pulled back and was soon back in the infirmary. She did not realize the rare tears on her face. She wiped them away with shaking hands, getting up and passing Fiona on the way out without a greeting. She didn't say a word to either Mae or Jean either. All she knew was that she needed answers and so did Logan. Right now though, he was more than willing to continue on with the story. She would give it to him all right. She would try her best to solve his problems and hers as well.

When they married, Danielle promised to do everything in her power to make this relationship last. Even if this new Logan was different than the one she married, she saw similarities and was falling in love with him again. This was just a hurdle and something that they both can get past. When she returned, she would continue the story, even if Jay was no longer there to help her or supplying power. She would make sure Logan knows what happened until the end and beyond too, even a bullet to the head of her first husband started their relationship anew.


	22. New Year, New Deal

**January 8, 2001**

It had not taken long for Leon to send Mae and Danielle over to California after the announcement a little more than a week ago. While Mystique had been correct in saying that it would be soon and the exact location was not known, even they did not understand where they were going until they landed in San Francisco Airport after the new year was rung in. After being escorted by security off of the plane and having Peter deal with the reporters before rushing her, Michael and Mae off to their limo, Danielle did nothing more than stare out the tinted window and gaze out in wonder. It was the first time since her mother's death that she left DC. It was certainly a wonderful change to see the sunshine and some people, even if she could not touch or talk to them.

It was a chilly and windy day in this former city of love and peace. The breezes whipped up as soon as they arrived at their new home, an apartment house on a hill just below Twin Peaks. They had the top suite to themselves, Peter explained as they entered through the glass doors and took the elevator up. They were free to roam it, but they were not allowed outside without permission from Leon. Mae was especially forbidden from ever leaving since she was her brother's prisoner. Danielle, on the other hand, caused a media sensation in the city and was requested at this and that public appearance, so much so that Peter denied access to the area and ensured that his police force guarded it and checked that their charge never engage in activities without permission.

This was better than their situation in DC. That much was evident when Peter unlocked the doors, ordering a secretive reporter to be taken care of, and they entered together like a family. When the entranceway was shut, echoing like a tomb dedicated to the highborn dead, Danielle shuddered, dismissing the feeling as nothing more than nervousness. She held onto Michael closer, listening to Peter drone on and on about the suite and how lucky they were to be so safe in San Francisco and that Leon was such a merciful leader to them both. Mae held back a snort. Danielle said nothing. Peter was right though. They were very lucky to be alive.

"I shall be going north to meet the rebels and that's any day now," Peter finished, news that caught Danielle's interest. "We will strike at the heart of the activity and move westward."

"Don't you think that the rebels would call for their forces to where you are?" Mae asked as innocently as she could, hoping to catch Peter in a generous mood. She needed all of the information she could.

"Not if we're sending another army to the other side of the coast," Peter boasted proudly as the maid he ordered came in. He then gazed at her suspiciously, his eyes almost closed. "You! Maid! What are you doing here?"

The woman turned to face Peter. "Nothing, Sir," she replied as she reached for a closet and took out some cleaning supplies. "I was ordered in here by yourself and His Excellency."

Peter waved his hand in dismissal. "Go then, clean. Clean out Her Excellency's rooms and prepare the ones for the heir and his nanny."

The maid did what was ordered and left the room. From there, Peter turned back to the trio and studied them for a second. He had thoughts of his own, thoughts that included seeing them in his hands and not his cousin's. Sure, Leon was great at organizing, had the power and persuaded with his voice, but Peter…he was lackluster comparably speaking. It made him bitter, urging his cousin to make him responsible for more and more things to make that feeling go away. The police force had been a gift for his loyalty and nothing more. Leading an army? That was more Peter's speed and one he relished with gusto.

Besides, Peter wanted more than his just desserts and the leftovers from his cousin. No, he wanted more of the power and prestige. He had to admit that he also liked Danielle a little too much. She was beautiful and bewitching in every way, even if she was a mutant. In addition, she was young and fertile and already proved to be a good mother and wife. Peter quickly calculated a plan in mind. There was every possibility that Leon would die in battle down south. If he did, the succession went to the toddler who just left his mother's arms and followed in the maid's footsteps.

 _This was too easy._

Peter had his own support and it was without his wife of several years nagging behind him. Even if he didn't like his job and constantly competed with the Ferris brothers for Leon's attention, he still had people who would do anything to help him. Most already knew Leon's little secret. They would not appreciate him dying and Michael succeeding him. It was asking for a control struggle, especially since Leon had not made his will and expected to live forever, even though he was pushing into his sixties. Michael was not expected to take over, especially since his mother would do everything in her power to be the one making the government decisions. That would then mean everything that they had achieved would be destroyed.

And that would not do. As Danielle and Mae chased after Michael and admonished him for bothering the maid, Peter schemed. Granted, this would have to wait until Leon dealt with Mexico and taught them a lesson. However, an initial message would speed things up a bit. He did not want those two Ferris men to take anything from the dictator and that was final.

When Michael was finally settled into the living room and playing gleefully with his new toys, Peter bid the two women farewell. He locked the doors behind him, again echoing the same noise that made everything seem so final. Danielle exchanged a glance with Mae and settled onto the couch. The older woman copied her, waiting for the so-called maid to finish up. When she did, she re-entered and stood before the pair. Quickly, her eyes betrayed golden spheres and then turned back to normal.

"Microphones only," Mystique revealed, taking a duster out from a corner and cleaning the cobwebs off of the ceiling. "The feed is nighttime only."

Mae wanted to laugh. "Really? We're free here?"

"Mostly," Mystique replied gravely, her tone so quiet that the two women almost didn't hear her. "The walls have ears, you know."

Danielle nodded. "Of course. However, it does feel that we are more liberated here."

"Speak for yourself. You want to call this marriage freedom, then by my guest."

"I did not mean it that way. Just because you've been deprived of your family and home does not mean you can make the rest of us miserable. I know who you love. I'm sure he still feels the same way."

"You know nothing, Danielle Ellis."

"So people say. After all, I can still pretty young and stupid. Who can say?"

"And young and stupid always got you in trouble, if I remember right."

"Ladies," Mae interrupted. "I think we're at an impasse here. Now, Mystique, do you happen to have a schedule of when Danielle is touring places?"

"I can get it," Mystique offered, grimacing at the prospect. "It's going to be tricky. She is going to be heavily guarded and watched like a hawk. Don't worry though. I am sure we can get you both to the other side."

"Within the year, you said?"

"Yes. Maybe earlier. It depends on how well it all ends. It could be that both Ellis men fail and we can regroup and smash him at his weakest. It also could happen that they succeed and they're stronger for it."

"Another wait game then?"

"Of course. I'll do what I can in the meantime. It all depends on Roger and now, Alex and Scott. New players mean new rules."

"What?" Danielle could not believe her ears. "Alex and Scott are back?"

"On their terms," Mystique corrected sharply. "However, I think Roger has a little trick up his sleeve and Alex isn't going to like him for it."

"And you?" Mae inquired, her eyes kind. "What are you doing?"

"What I can to survive," Mystique replied, shutting up when she heard the door open. Some sentries entered, ending their conversation for the time being. However, Mystique knew it was not over yet. Roger had something in mind to bail everyone out…and it might mean the end of Ellis' regime too.

~00~

Alex was irritated with the job he received. No, he should correct that. He was _fuming_ mad at Roger for the way he persuaded him and Scott to join him back in the fold and start a rescue team that might equate to government restoration and equality for all and the rest of that happy horseshit. Right now, it was the small things that kept the two busy. They had reached New Brunswick with Roger's help, found Magda and had settled into a lifestyle that included courting with the Canadian government (again, all Roger's fault), being accepted and living a quieter life than in the US.

Well, it was better than living in the US, despite the nasty cold winters. Alex had never felt so frozen in his life, even when he was living in Alaska as a child and recently as a fugitive too. Every three hours, they had to check the piping, wood stove and then each other. It was too easy to get chilled, even for Cable and Jean, and it was always a challenge. Nonetheless, that was just as tiring as walking into town everyday and talking with government officials. They knew that Ellis was sending a force up north to greet them. They even heard that the dictator himself sent his wife away from the capital to some other state for safety.

 _Hiding her out of embarrassment, most likely._ Alex rubbed his hands together, walking with Scott down the road to a meeting hall to speak with Roger again. It was several degrees below zero and walking was not making their plight much better.

Scott shivered. "Why did we have to move here?" he whined, his voice full of longing for everything warm and cozy.

"I get it, I get it," Alex grumbled. "We'll move someplace warmer after this ends."

"I'm hoping after this is done we can move back to New York."

"Personally, I have some unfinished business to attend to before going back to Salem Center. Otherwise, be my guest. Take your family and run for it."

"Care to tell me what it is?"

"Not yet. I'll let you know later when I'm ready."

Silence reigned between the two brothers. Alex felt awkward keeping secrets from Scott, but it could not be helped this time. Then again, it was sort of weird hanging out with his more dashing brother who was several years younger and one that he hardly saw until he was older too. It wasn't that Alex didn't love Scott and didn't take their father's words to heart when he was told to protect Scott at all costs. He did in his own way. It was just hard to relate to him and to talk about his problems before his unexpected arrival.

Scott had admitted to Alex his issues concerning their family and life, especially being the child of older parents who hardly spoke of their eldest and had not seen him until the day they died. It was a healing process they both had to face and dealing with it at a time of social and political upheaval made the brothers irritable, angry and defensive. It was soothing to have two women to share their troubles and who got along perfectly. However, it was salt on Alex's old wound every time Lorna decided to run off for long periods of time. Scott had it better and received a stable relationship with Jean.

Soon, the pair entered an office building downtown. After verifying with security who they were, they were ushered to the second floor meeting room. The door shut behind him, the high heat warning their bodies as they took their winter gear off and settled into their seats. Roger entered from another doorway seconds later, taking the position at the head of the table and appearing in every way to be tired and pale. Alex and Scott turned their attention to him and waited for him to start.

"We have a few problems here and we need some action now," Roger announced, something that did not faze Alex or Scott in the slightest. "Leon Ellis is, at this moment, marching down to Mexico and attempting a takeover. Apparently, the government and the powers that be do not like him being so nosy and want a fight. So, he's giving it to them now, after so much time bragging about it."

"What's that got to do with us?" Scott asked.

"Distraction," Roger confirmed. "He's sending an army up here to smash us. Canada is ready though. Men and women are massing at the borders left and right. It's up to us to join them. Not mandatory. Canada just likes the idea of pushing back and having her allies in a row."

"And your Black Serpents?"

"Still at it and counting more recruits. Chameleon has disappeared though."

"No surprise," Alex butted in.

"Tell me about it." Roger took out a cigarette and fiddled with it between his shaking fingers, soon lighting it with his hands and smoking. "I'm betting Chameleon had his sights set on something quite… _interesting_ , if you get my meaning. In order to kill the tree, you need to get at the roots."

"Who?" Scott was quite curious.

"If I had to take a guess, it's those Ferris brothers, leftovers from Trask in the sixties and seventies," Roger said. His face registered pain for a second, but it passed quickly. "The two of them have been pining to be near to Ellis. To eliminate a problem, you need to go deep. I feel that Peter Ellis isn't much of a threat yet, although I'm sure he's trying to be. Those two? Chameleon must be dancing in the streets to be that close."

"What good is a leader when he's hardly around?" Scott wondered out loud.

"One who likes to make people think he's really a ghost and might not exist…a fantasy really," Alex clarified to Scott. "It's a scare tactic. Ellis knows who Chameleon is and what he's capable of since they were in Vietnam together. Everyone else might think it's like a winter soldier, an unknown man who is used for nighttime campfire stories or bedtime tales to scare kids. He's real though. He's a real threat."

"And honestly, Scott, you don't wanna cross Chameleon," Roger added gravely, coughing as he put out his cigarette. "However, you're small fries for him unless you turn your back, which I doubt. Anyway, he'll be back soon enough. He's left me in charge of things though, which means more paperwork for me and recruiting people I don't like."

"Our assignment now?" This Alex had been waiting for.

"I would say New York, but Logan has that covered with some kids we've picked up," Roger replied. "Alex, I would need you to make inquiries into where Ellis hid Danielle and Mae. I would continue that search, but with Chameleon gone, I've got more things to do than chase paper trails all day. I'll give you what I have and you can go from there. No need to leave home yet either. Take your time. I told Mystique it might be a year before we attempt a rescue anyway. If you find her, which I have yet to, you most likely would get to the bottom of where those two are."

Alex felt relieved that he didn't need to leave and face Lorna about it. "It all depends on how the battles end up."

"Exactly." Roger then turned to Scott. "You're different, small fry. I've got border patrol for you. Canada has an embassy office down near the Maine border. Even though it's our turf, Ellis has men hanging around. We haven't found all of them yet and I need someone who would weed them out."

"And you need me to catch them all and do what with them?"

"Do whatever you please with them. That, and pick up anybody you can and bring them over to me. All of the X-Men would be great."

"Recruitment and possible spies too?"

"You got it. I've been known to turn a few heads over to our side."

"Let's not get into that." Alex stood up, Scott copying him. "I accept and I'm sure my brother does too. You've kept your end, we're keeping ours. So, when do I start?"

"Anytime tomorrow," Roger said. "Scott is expected next week. Short distance from your home at least."

"Thankfully," Scott muttered.

"However, I don't need to remind you both that this is still a dangerous game of cat and mouse." Roger's face turned darker, worse than his sickly pallor. "If Ellis is losing land and people this way, then he has holes we can poke through. On the other side of he coin, we need to remember that the lion is pretty angry…and very vengeful. We strike, we cannot turn back. There will be no mercy this time. By the time Ellis is done, he'll be dead…and everyone else with him."


	23. Bust the Door Open

It was a cold night, even for being underground and in a heated tunnel system too. Rogue, Bobby and Colossus sat together in a small classroom, waiting for Logan to return. Ororo sat at the head desk, reading a book as they finished up their classwork and waited to be dismissed at the appointed time. Logan and Teller had gone into town and were trying to settle things enough so that everyone else would be able to leave the mansion. Well, it would be Colossus who was leaving. Bobby and Rogue had been ordered to stay behind and work on their assignments for their classes.

 _How boring_. Rogue sighed. She started down at the schoolbook and was trying her hardest to concentrate, but she couldn't. All she could think about was Colossus going to a bar and running it for most of the night.

Bobby was thinking the same thing. He nudged Rogue in the side and snickered. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" he whispered to her.

"Finishing up this math homework?" Rogue suggested quietly just as Ororo looked up and gave all three of them a severe glance.

"Wrong. Try again."

"Helping each other with it after we get out of here?"

"No."

"Sneaking out into town?"

Bobby grinned. "You got it."

"How?" Rogue asked. "We're watched closely. Logan will drag us back here."

"Well, how long are bars normally open for?"

"I've heard of some staying open all night."

"Some of them do. Others close maybe two, three o'clock in the morning. We've got a lot of time to check it out."

"Why are you so curious, Bobby?"

"Well, _aren't_ you?"

"A little, yeah."

"Have you completed the work?" Ororo had gotten up from her seat and stood between Rogue and Bobby, blocking them from talking to each other. "If so, you can give it to me."

Embarrassed, Rogue handed Ororo her papers. It wasn't done, but she might as well show Ororo what was and bear it. The teacher said nothing, giving it back to Rogue and turning to Bobby. He did the same thing and again it was returned in the same manner. Ororo sighed, ordering them to get back to work and sitting back down to her book. She wasn't used to dealing with teenagers anymore. She was used to going undercover and finding things out for herself. She was then ushered into an uncertain new age where it was acceptable to be tortured for who you were. Now, she was home, a place where she settled when she was younger and less naïve.

It was a long road that brought Ororo to this. It had taken so long for her to understand that she was no longer amongst people who hated her and with those who loved her. Now, it was a matter of becoming human again. She could not stand people touching her. She could not bear to look in anyone she knew and tell them what happened. However, she had a feeling that they did and were not judging her. Their pity, which was evident everywhere she turned, was something she could not bear though. The only way she could escape was going to see Matthew and Fiona in the infirmary. Both of them had yet to recover from their ordeals and it was something Ororo could connect to.

Two things were certain. One was that Matthew was unable to tell where he was and who was with him, so much so that he had to be sedated most days. He was treated so gently though, tended mostly by Ororo, in order to gain back his humanity. The second was that Fiona was sick enough that she might be bedridden for the rest of his life. She could hardly walk, could not keep more than bread and water down and was so thin that one could almost see through her.

That left Ororo almost as a sole survivor of the whole ordeal. She was not bitter nor was she angry if she had to be honest with herself. She was past humiliation too, even if she did not like the others trying to comfort her. She was at peace with herself for the most part. She initially thought that she was going to die. With careful planning, she had been picked up and brought home. That she should be grateful for. Even so, amidst all of the chaos still happening, she still felt out of sorts being at home. Teaching had been her solace and the only thing that kept her alive.

In the meantime, watching over the three who now resided at the mansion was going to be a challenge. None of them liked the whole school atmosphere and preferred to be at play and in the middle of the action. However, circumstances might make that change. Ororo was sure that Teller would recruit them as much as he did with her, Danielle and many more people. They were at that precious age too and adventure would call to them more than the practical would.

She knew that Bobby and Rogue would be talking again before long. They did, but Ororo could hardly hear them since their tones were lower than normal. She wished for Jean to be with her, but had last heard that she was in Canada and had a baby boy to keep her occupied. Most certainly busy, she figured, but she had the feeling that they would meet again. This war would bring more of them together. Already, it gave them three teenagers and all of them too antsy.

After ten minutes, when Rogue and Bobby realized that Ororo was yet again distracted by her book and hardly cared for their conversation anyway, they turned back to their chat. They smiled at each other, waiting the customary five minutes before they realized that it was safe, and started their whispering.

"You want to go with Peter?" Bobby asked, motioning to Colossus on his left.

Rogue hesitated, but could not resist. "Yes, I would. How are we doing this though?"

That was a problem. Bobby knew that Rogue was sharing a room with Ororo because of space and safety issues. Doing anything that was not school related was going to be suspicious. Going upstairs was also getting the same results. Although Bobby knew that Colossus would not tell anyone of their deeds, he also knew that the Russian would not protect them from trouble. He weighed in the pros and cons and then decided on their next step.

"Maybe next week?" he suggested. "Right now, we'd be drawing attention. Best if we waited."

Rogue nodded. "Let's hope next week will be better. I hear the town's pretty dangerous."

"That doesn't bother me more than getting found out."

"Really, Bobby? Dealing with Logan is the worst of your worries?"

"Hey, he's kinda scary. I admit it."

"I think he's nice."

"You hardly spoke two words to him since you've been here."

"Have not. Besides, he's promised to help me when I need it."

"Oh, I see how it is. Boyfriend on the side."

Rogue wanted to laugh. Bobby wasn't the jealous type, but when she saw the silliness in his eyes, she wanted to join in his merriment. However, that was soon interrupted. Not only had Ororo stopped reading her book, but her attention was pulled to Logan, who had just entered the classroom. Rogue and Bobby watched as he exchanged some tense words with their instructor. He appeared pretty worried about something. He then specifically ordered, loud enough for everyone to hear, that nobody was to leave the mansion. The town was rioting tonight, he added.

"Being not-so supportive of the dictator makes me the bad guys," Bobby hissed to Rogue. "This is why Westchester and Salem Center don't like the Black Serpents."

"How would you know?" Rogue eyed Logan and Ororo conversing and wondered what else was happening in town.

"I walked in here, remember? Some blue woman picked me up, handed me to some other blue creature…?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, sugar. I got picked up by the same person, whoever she was."

"But you didn't get to really see the town and hear the rumors, Rogue. The people are angry and do not like being controlled by the same people who should have gone to the camps."

"Yeah, according to Ellis."

"Well, he _is_ in charge."

"Do you believe him though?"

"Of course not!" Bobby bristled. "This is why I came here. Apparently, being stuck in what used to be a school for gifted students is the place for me."

"It's not so bad," Rogue consoled him, also trying to crank her ears to hear Logan and Ororo. "At least we're safe and we're not going to a camp. We're also not dead. That's the best part."

"And not being dead," Bobby added. He too listening in to the conversation up front, but was as disappointed as Rogue when the pair moved outside the room.

Logan knew what was he was doing. He did not want the kids knowing more than they should and saw the eager faces that wanted news. He closed the door behind him, hoping that the three would not be kneeling before it to eavesdrop, and looked at Ororo with serious eyes. Teller joined them to complete the circle, leaning against the entranceway with a foot propping him up.

"This is worse than we thought," Teller began, unsure of where Logan ended.

"I was telling her," Logan said.

"So, the town is revolting?" Ororo asked her question like it was a statement proven true. "What do we do now?"

"Quell it, I would assume." Teller shrugged her shoulders.

"Find the source," Logan added. "As far as I can tell, it's just a bunch of hoodlums wanting attention."

"They could burn us out," Ororo pointed out.

"They can try."

"Logan, you may be able to escape unscathed, but the rest of us can't."

"Relax, Storm. We've got a plan."

" _Oh_?"

"Teller and I here know where the headquarters of these kids are. Helps when they're the same age as the kids in there." Logan jerked his thumb to the classroom. "You fight fire with fire."

Ororo was not impressed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Logan, you can't just treat kids like they're adults."

"Excuse me. Before you all get into an argument about age and maturity, let me say something here." Teller stood up, no longer against the door. "These kids that started this mess are also old enough to go to war. They're sixteen, maybe seventeen years old, easily manipulated and always itching for a fight. The source may not exactly be them. Ever thought they could be tools from the system?"

"Possible," Logan conceded. "Still need to be taught a lesson."

"You think Ellis has people instigating in town?" This made Ororo nervous.

"Anybody who is fighting psychologically has to." Teller shook his head, reaching for a cigarette out of a pocket and not lighting it out of consideration for the house rules. "Ellis has people crawling all over the entire county, region and to the west too. We may have had victories in the north, but we have yet to win the war. This is small."

"And we're not going down without a fight," Logan butted in. "Stay here, Storm. We'll take care of it. If you don't hear from us by tomorrow night, assume it went bad and do nothing until Roger gets back in contact with us."

"Wonder what he's up to in that winter wasteland?" Teller snickered.

"Negotiating with the Canadians still." Logan wasn't getting into it too deeply. He heard enough to make his hair stand on end and make his mind go mad. "He might have a route to Canada in case something happens. He'll let us know."

"I'm sure." Ororo was still not happy. "When are you leaving?"

Teller checked his wrist watch and then glanced back at Logan. "Six o'clock. Care to run?"

Logan nodded. Without saying another word to Ororo, he and Teller left. They escaped through the garage and walked down the lane to the gates. After exchanging a few words with the guards there, they hopped the fence and ambled down to the farm Roger used as a contact point. Picking up a motorcycle each despite the cold, the two raced to Salem Center, dodging obstacles left and right. People didn't seem too pleased to see them either, heckling them and throwing bricks, rocks and sometimes the random clot of frozen mud too.

Salem Center was a disaster zone though. Buildings had been burnt to the ground since the takeover by the Black Serpents, all of them in spite. Businesses had been destroyed, homes now craters where faces popped out of every once in a while. Ruins smoldered red and orange and then to black. Murders had been easily committed too and in all sorts of ways. Logan and Teller had to avoid colliding with other vehicles and pedestrians and bodies, averting their eyes away from the worst, and soon managed to get most of it behind them. They parked their vehicles down an alleyway and snuck to the back door to an old bakery business.

It was familiar to Logan. When he sniffed, he realized why. This was nearby the place where the initial rioting started. Years and years before, when Ellis visited as a senator and gave a speech about making America great again, he instigated the people to start killing anyone who was different from them. Danielle had maybe been eleven or twelve at the time, Logan recalled, and was so scared by the end of the ordeal that he had to carry her the rest of the way back to the mansion.

Logan's thoughts soon brought him back to better memories, so much so that he was tasting it. Teller saw this and elbowed him at the side. He could not afford the older mutant going down memory lane. Enough that he thought of Danielle almost daily and would dream about her when the opportunity arose. Teller knew all about that. After sharing the living room with the man for two weeks before opting to go to the quiet of the underground for good, he heard enough from Logan's flapping lips to last him a lifetime and all of it from when he was sleeping too.

And that was being nice. From the words Logan sometimes said in his slumber, Teller painted a better picture of how the two came to be a couple and why. From what he heard too, and all of it from Xavier (a surprise), was that Logan and Danielle only had that one night of happiness, to truly call themselves lovers, before Ellis took the girl away. It was heartbreaking and enough to make Teller think it was all revenge for Logan, but that had yet to be seen. Logan was a pretty angry guy, but it didn't show enough to classify as rage.

In the meantime, he had to get Logan to focus. That was the mission here. They could not afford to think back to better times, only wishing for it in the future. Most certainly, Teller had to keep on the same track too. Salem Center was his home as well and he had memories galore of it, but he also did not want it to overwhelm him.

"Get out of your mind, asshole," Teller said. "We're out and about."

Logan grinned grimly. "Right. Have a plan?"

"Not yet. You?"

"Bust the door open and hope for the best?"

"You in first?"

"Sure. They might have weapons."

Teller smiled too. "Now you're talking. Let's go."


	24. We Need Hope

It had been a few days of interrogating that resulted in nothing. The five teenagers that Teller and Logan picked up and brought back to the mansion would not reveal anything about their activities, who they were working for (if any) or even why they started trouble in town. It frustrated the both of them so much that Hank and Xavier had to come down to see them. The two had been residing quietly upstairs and had listened time and again to the pair yelling at the kids, either at that position or upstairs. It was time for a different tactic, they thought, and the perfect time for Teller and Logan to lay off.

The pair came over to the other end of the hallway, watching as Logan came out and sighed. He noticed them and smiled, not even attempting to hide what had happened. Xavier suspected as much was going on under his nose (even in the past too), but at least it wasn't as bad as he thought. Logan and Teller roughed them up a little mentally and had reduced two out of five of them into tears. However, they all had not budged, something that made Xavier and Hank nervous. By then, Xavier had an idea. He did not like it, but at this point, they might not have a choice anymore.

"Inform Teller that I'll handle the rest of this conversation," Xavier told Hank. When he disappeared into the room and shut the door behind him, it left the Professor alone with Logan. "I think it's time for some bluffing."

Logan was amazed. "You? _Bluff_?"

"What choice do we have? If we release them, they might cause us more trouble in the future. If they think they're not going to get away with it, then they might stop."

"That's a huge risk you're taking, Professor."

"I don't think it's any worse than you threatening them, Logan."

"How did you…?"

"Sometimes, the ventilation brings some interesting discussions between people. Let's leave it there."

Hank soon exited with Teller, the latter appearing in every way annoyed. "The floor is yours, Charles," Hank said, opening the door wider so the wheelchair could fit through. When Xavier entered, Hank closed it again.

The light was dim in the room. Five teenagers sat underneath the only illumination, all of them fidgeting in their seats and two of them wiping their red eyes. Estimated to be between the ages of fifteen and seventeen, Xavier thought initially that they were just fools. Upon further investigation, when he probed their outer thoughts, he knew them to be tools and thinking themselves above the rest. It would be easy for them to continue their infantile gestures for the time being though. Studying them without the usage of power was the best way, to give them the impression that he was allowing them to get away with it.

"Who are you?" one of them asked, the obvious leader. "Their father?" He jerked his thumb to the door, referring to Teller and Logan.

"No, no," Xavier reassured him. "I'm only a friend to them…and hopefully to you too."

"What you got to offer?" the second inquired. "You can't even stand up."

Xavier brushed the comment aside. He had heard people making fun of his disability for many years and even had to brush aside his own depression for years. He did not need to answer them nor did the tormenter need to know how it happened and all that time ago too. He could only consider himself to be very lucky to be alive and talking right now, all things considered.

"My name is Charles Xavier," he began. "Most people call me the Professor."

" _And_?" The third teenager stuck up his middle finger, allowing Xavier to see how he felt about the situation.

"And I was hoping that you all would tell me what happened in town last night," Xavier continued gently. "You see, my friends have been trying to keep the peace in Salem Center. They did not appreciate having the townspeople getting excited over nothing. Your clubhouse was pinpointed as the origin of the agitation."

The leader crossed his arms and exchanged a look with the others. "So what?"

"They just want to know who was asking you to cause this much ruckus," Xavier replied simply. "It's obvious all of you cannot be the center of all of this unwanted attention."

"Who said someone sent us?" the fourth one called out. This made the fifth teenager kick him in the side of the shins.

"Process of elimination," Xavier concluded. "Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. The former would be one or all of you telling me how and why you all came to be in the middle of this activity."

"And the hard way?" The fifth one was suddenly curious, his eyes widening in horror.

"Nobody told you of my abilities, now did they?" Xavier reminded them casually, feigning a yawn. "Let's just say that it's going to be painful if I tried."

The five again glared at each other. "You're lying," the third immediately declared. "You're not a mutie."

"Who said I wasn't?" Xavier sounded too innocent, even to his own ears. The fibs even sounded pretty slippery to him. "You've probably heard throughout Salem Center that I had been incarcerated as one with two of my fellow friends. I was branded as dangerous mutant too. Why would I lie?"

"He's right," the fifth whispered to the fourth.

"Shh!" the fourth hissed.

"Shut up, all of you," the leader added.

'What's the process?" the second questioned Xavier.

"Something that might reveal that some of you might hate the other and wish the organizer gone," Xavier chatted inanely. "I mean, you all do not seem to care about the safety of others. Why should you regard your own?"

Frantic whispers went back and forth between the five teenagers. Xavier did not need to know what they were talking about. It was amusing to see them so panicked though. And nobody was asking him what he was specifically going to do, even if he exaggerated a little. However, Xavier had to admit that his way of things worked like a charm, was getting the results they needed and it did not require violence. The last was always the best part, especially when so many who worked with him usually went with that decision.

The leader finally hushed the group and looked at Xavier. "What kind of protection cn you give us?" He seemed scared.

"Transportation to Canada," Xavier automatically answered.

"Away from Peter Ellis?"

"Yes. The Black Serpents will be able to give you full witness protection."

"How far across the border are we talking?"

"Enough to keep you away from a paper trail."

"And then what?"

"You live your lives as you decide it should be."

"What about school? Our parents and loved ones?"

"What you believe is of worth is up to you. Either way, we will receive the information and you'll be the lesser for it. You can decide later to being your family and friends or not."

The leader again conversed with the other four. Then, he turned to Xavier and nodded his assent. One by one, the teenagers explained their story of what happened. They were troublemakers usually and Peter Ellis decided to use them. It's a typical scenario, they explained. They were bullies that people feared and they would get their way no matter what. Just a few days before, Peter Ellis stopped them and asked them if they would do a favor for money. When over a million dollars in bills was presented on the table of their clubhouse, they were told they can keep the money if they caused enough gossip to make the town rise up and clamor to go back to the fold.

Peter Ellis managed to slip out of Salem Center unnoticed. In the meantime, he left behind enough chaos to last them a while…and enough that would make the takeover an action in vain. Xavier thanked the five profusely, wheeling himself out and locking the door behind him. He turned to the group before him – now Hank and Logan – and sighed.

"We would need additional security around our own borders," Xavier said. "Peter Ellis has been easily coming in and out."

"What?" Logan was shocked. "That's impossible."

"Impossible enough to allow himself in somehow," Hank pointed out. "We're going to need more people to man the lines."

"Alert Roger," Xavier ordered. "He would have the lists and the numbers."

"We can use the kids," Logan suggested.

"What?" Now, it was Hank's turn to be shocked. "When Salem Center is crawling with people their age who are going more harm than good? No, Logan. It wouldn't be appropriate for naïve teenagers to tackle trouble."

"If we provide them with false IDs and send them out there, the only people who would question them are those in Salem Center," Logan argued. "If we're in control, who are they going to tell? _Us_? Besides that, I think that they'll be safe if one of us follows them."

"I nominate you then," Hank volunteered. It was Logan's idea, so logic dictated that he alone act on it.

"I second that," Xavier conceded. "It makes sense."

Logan looked at Hank and Xavier evenly, thinking that this was a joke. If he thought about it, he did insert his foot into his mouth. Not to mention, it did make common sense at least. He alone would be physically able to watch three school-aged kids that wanted more out of life than sitting in a classroom. He was pretty sure that Colossus, Rogue and Bobby were just plain bored with Ororo anyway, doing math problems and listening to lectures for most of the day. However, he felt that only Colossus alone was ready to go. The other two? Forget it. Rogue was scared to touch others and was not confident in herself, a trait that would get her killed. Bobby was a hotshot and very hot-tempered to boot and was too cocky to fight.

In either case though, they might not have a choice. They all had to work somehow, just as they've always dreamed about. A youngster's surreal ideas about peace, love and equality weighed heavily on the trio and that also bothered Logan. It just wasn't going to fly outside of the dour walls they've spent their time in, even if they tried. They needed a reality check and something that would make them think with the concept of war.

In turn, Logan growled, thinking back to how this all started and another young kid he had to watch. "How are we training them?"

"I can reroute the power to the Danger Room," Hank offered, making it sound like the project might take a while. "Once it's running, we'll have the perfect training ground."

"I'm also sure that, once they're recovered, Storm and Matthew will help you," Xavier added. "And who better to help prepare them than you, Logan?"

Logan could not disagree, although the theory about war Xavier had was wrong. "Going through war does not make me qualified to teach it. You have to experience it in order to understand it. You cannot speak and explain it."

"Again, who better than you?" Hank challenged.

"Nothing permanent until I have Storm and Matthew," Logan put out. "I can take Tin Man and that's it. Rogue and Bobby can stay where they are until we have more resources and common sense besides."

Before Hank and Xavier could argue, Logan left them. He went in search of Teller. Lately, the bar owner had been a good sounding board, even though he himself was in shambles, and he always had a good word or three about certain situations. For now, it was easier to just ease into what was decided, what had happened and see where Teller stood with it. However, Logan could not find him anywhere downstairs. He went to the main floor and then upstairs and still did not find Teller. Finally, heading to the basketball court, he saw Teller sitting on one of the benches, smoking a cigarette.

The temptation was too much. Logan pulled out a cigar from his pocket and joined the bar owner. The pair were soon smoking in harmony until they finished. By then, Teller sighed. He seemed defeated and tired, so much so that Logan knew that he wasn't getting any advice today. Easier to just talk it out then.

"They confessed," Logan announced. "They told the Professor everything."

"I would assume that Ellis had a hand in it," Teller replied, now wringing his old hands, now riddled with arthritis.

"His cousin," Logan clarified. "He snuck in and put money down."

"Why don't we have our own people ministering who comes in and out?"

"I think that's on Roger, more than anything else."

"What happens next then? What will happen to us?"

"We continue to fight. That's the best we can do."

"I sometimes think that we do too much of it, Wolverine…that all of this would amount to nothing. We didn't do enough to prevent it and just let it slide to this moment. What makes you think we're powerful enough to stop it?"

"Because we have people on our side now, people we never thought would help us. We have a new generation that is aching to be as freed from this insanity. I hate to say this, but we need to have hope."

Teller laughed harshly. " _Hope_? What's that?"

"A picture for a better tomorrow," Logan threw out, feeling like Xavier. Honestly, it felt a little awkward coming out of his mouth anyway. "Something to look forward to when we're older and still fighting."

It took Teller a minute to process that, but when he did, he put a reassuring arm around Logan, nothing more. He didn't want to talk about this anymore and just continue on. All he wanted at that point was for the nonsense to stop. He wanted his bar back, his carefree life to resume and the people who entered it to return gladly. He cursed the day he and Chameleon met Leon Ellis and introduced him to the world of law and politics. He even kicked himself in the ass daily for putting the money down for Ellis to start his law firm with his cousin.

Worse of all, he blamed himself for Danielle. With Jay and Roger (and maybe even Logan too), Teller had turned her into a bit of a whore and even bait for Ellis to boot. She was hunted down like an animal, married against her will and now enjoying life as a prisoner with Mae Mortimer. She was so young and innocent before that, eager to see the world, and she had proven her worth to them. That had quickly turned, from the happiest moment in her life to the worst…and Logan, as the person she loved the most and vice versa, had to witness it.

Bitterness always ran between the two friends, Teller and Logan both. Disappointments always followed them. However, Teller found himself a little comforted by Logan's odd and very uncharacteristic words. Peculiarly enough, he felt that the older mutant was right. They needed as much hope as they could, no matter what went on. However, there was one thing he had to say before getting back to work.

"God, I cannot _wait_ for the day Danielle comes back," Teller admitted, in hysterics afterward. He noted that Logan did not argue.


	25. Assassination and a Stab in the Back

Generally, it would have been a happy day had not the activities been better for time out of the apartment suite. Danielle was informed the night before that she would be touring some of the internment camps in California the next morning. No other information was given despite the terse message, but by the time morning came and she was about to eat breakfast with Mae and Michael, Peter entered with his team of bodyguards and ushered her out without further ado. She hardly had time to dress for the occasion or even get a bite out of her toast. However, by the time they passed the reporters outside of the apartment building and entered the waiting limo, Peter presented her with clothing for the day, drawing the shades on all of the windows and ordering her to dress.

To say the least, it was very humiliating for a married woman to dress in front of someone who was not her husband or even someone she loved in return. Danielle noted Peter's eyes on her each time she slipped out of one of her garments and pulled on a new one. In turn, she changed her clothes as quickly as she could and soon was opening the blinds, watching the vehicle roll down unfamiliar roads to the first camp she had to tour.

From there, it went from bad to worse. Throughout the sea of more reporters, security and even the officers of each camp, Danielle saw sights she never thought were possible, enough to make her throw up and cry many times over. Each prisoner, dead or alive, was treated with so much disrespect that she had to wonder where Leon was going with his plans for purification and why nobody else had said anything. Hard labor defined the lives of the inmates, most of them aged from their teenaged years to middle-aged, but no more than fifty-five years old or younger than four. With specific instructions, all of them built the infrastructure of the country, from roads to businesses to houses.

Not all were in the building business though. Danielle noted that some children left behind were either sent into solitary confinement or into mines, to bring out natural resources or sometimes other precious metals. Others who were older broke rocks, made car license plates or even processed the belongings of those who just came or those who had been declared deceased. In other parts of the camps, some were sent to the medical unit for experiments and other so-called scientific studies.

By the time Danielle entered the fifth camp and began the showing (the commander in charge of the tour droning on and on), it was after lunchtime and the weak winter sun shone hotter. Not only did she feel lightheaded from the lack of food and the heat, but from the emotional shock and the reporters that badgered her for commented (she even said one that would get her in trouble later on, she was sure). She could not begin to comprehend or explain the unfairness or the disgust she felt upon seeing these poor people, all of them condemned because they were different like her. She could hardly believe that anybody would go that low, especially after the events from many wars ago, and that anybody would allow it to happen or to continue.

 _I guess it's the charisma that matters._ Sighing towards the end of the last leg of the journey, Danielle tugged on Peter's suit sleeve, asking when they were stopping for food.

Peter recoiled, insulted that Danielle dared to touch him and in front of many other people too, and soon was pushing himself to the front of the line. Danielle didn't bother checking to hear what Peter was saying, but it was obvious that everyone around them was in agreement. By the time Peter came back to Danielle, the commander announced that lunch was being served in his quarters and that all were welcome to join in.

It was a relief. Danielle followed her group back to the commander's office, where several courses were set up, and was seated to the commander's left. Peter took the right and was soon babbling about this and that thing. Danielle did not pay attention, only taking in her food slowly. While it was delicious at first, she soon lost her appetite. It did not seem right for her to be eating when so many others were starving. Choking down some red wine and nibbling on some mashed potatoes instead, she smiled as Peter buzzed on and sat down.

Throughout the meal, Danielle also chose to remain silent, nodding every now and then and speaking a word or two in encouragement. Peter was pleased, she saw, and figured that he was calculating something in his head, most likely how to report bad behavior if there was any. Danielle did not want to know what it was otherwise, thinking it perverse to even try to probe his outer thoughts. It was easier to stay the way she was and bite on food she felt was wasted on her.

Honestly, what she found was entertaining was listening to the officers. All of them were loyal to her husband, but they seemed joyous and boisterous. They all were her age or slightly older, which made relating to them easier, albeit it was hard to keep to herself and not join in. One of them even winked at her, his eyes glistening gold for a second before he turned back to his partner to spit out a joke. Nobody noticed it other than Danielle. However, she felt comforted by a familiar presence, even though it was disguised.

Towards the end of the luncheon, a guard entered and was soon between the commander and Peter. He whispered something frantically into the commander's ear, something that caught Peter's interest greatly, and exited. The commander then rose from his seat, prompting the rest of the party to do the same, and gave everyone a sorrowful glance.

"What's the news?" Peter asked, although Danielle suspected that he knew already.

"We have just received word that the Ferris brothers have been assassinated," the commander announced drastically.

"How? Why?" Peter feigned being stunned. His features even twisted into one that was dazed and confused. "It's impossible!"

"I'd rather not say anything in front of Her Excellency," the commander stuttered.

"I believe that Her Excellency can deal with some unpleasant information sometimes and swallow her womanly charms," Peter snapped. "This is now an official investigation under my jurisdiction and I will have the details. Out with it!"

"They had been campaigning in the south with His Excellency." The commander quickly shot an apologetic look at Danielle, a face that told her that he at least respected her. "The night before, when they retired to their respective tents, an assassin managed to sneak past the perimeter security and…and shot them both in the head. He left no other mark."

Danielle, even as an assassin, put a hand to her mouth. "How awful!"

"So we have any suspects? Anyone detained?" Peter pulled out a notepad from his back pocket and pretended to write and be attentive about the matter. "More information?"

"No other information has been presented to me," the commander stated to Peter. "I'll leave that in your capable hands."

Afterward, the commander dismissed everyone. Peter put his writing items back into his pocket and motioned for his guards to escort Danielle back to the limo. They quickly left and entered the vehicle. As soon as Danielle was settled inside and Peter had taken the seat opposite from her, he ordered them to depart and go back to San Francisco. Indeed, Danielle was glad to leave, although she thought the news terrible, even though she hardly liked the Ferris brothers anyway. She knew the consequences of this. The power struggle between the Ferris brothers and Peter was well-known and gossiped about. With them gone, the way to glory and power was paved for the Ellis cousin.

It was a dire situation Danielle did not want to think about. The way Peter stared at her when she was dressing and how he always fought to be the best was enough. She knew that he lusted after her. There was also no question about his want of power either. Danielle had not planned what would happen in case Leon was killed or died suddenly. She sure was going to fight though and ensure that things were set back right again and without Peter taking a grab for it. If Michael was to be a leader of all men, they by God, she would teach him right.

Peter found Danielle gazing out the window after their withdrawal. For two hours, he watched her moves and wondered if she used her powers to communicate with people. He could not tell. He would assume that she would have at least the facial expressions to show it, but there was nothing. He had to do something though. He was sure that Danielle was somehow connected to this assassination, although he found it convenient that the Ferris brothers had been killed. She's proven her worth in words and deeds. What more was she capable of?

"I would ask you what you know, but it seems you know nothing except wishing people peace," Peter began, a statement that startled Danielle. He even referred to her remark to the media about hoping everyone had a good life and all of that, which was nonsense in Peter's eyes.

"Huh?" She shook her head. "I know nothing of this, Peter, just like you've said. I've shown you that I am innocent and that I can take on your henchmen without a problem. What more do I need to do to establish the fact that I am a loyal subject and wife to my husband and his laws?"

"You're a mutant. That makes you a natural liar."

Danielle grew defensive, squaring her shoulders for this new fight. "I'm also a trained assassin and can manipulate you to do anything I want you to do. I've beaten your men before you called in the dogs. What makes you think I can't do the same to you and leave without a trace?"

"You're state property, Danielle. You wouldn't dare."

"No, I wouldn't. Not now anyway. I feel my allegiance should stay with the people I am with. In this case, now and forever, it's you and Leon."

"You've betrayed him and gave him a mutant son."

Danielle shrugged her shoulders. "The power of genetics. What can I say?"

"You ought to be shot," Peter declared, his face shaded red.

"And what? You watch me laugh at you?"

"I could order the same for your brother."

"He'd do the same thing to you. Give it up, Peter. You can't touch me. You can do nothing to me now."

"I can blame you for the assassination. Leon will believe that."

"You've also been spying on me for how long? Give it up. I'm monitored and recorded and so is Mae. There's nothing on us. You also don't have a right to lock us up."

"No, but your husband does. So, tell me, Danielle…you wish him success on this latest venture in Mexico?"

"I hope Leon gets everything he ever wanted and has success at every turn," Danielle said fervently. "I wouldn't want him harmed."

Peter licked his lips. "A very roundabout answer, my lady, I'll give you that. However, it doesn't mean anything. The new laws say that I can accuse you of anything and have you killed on the spot."

"I thought I could be burned, extra crispy?"

"I'm working on it. Would be entertaining to see you in the fire though."

"I'm sure. However, I am deducing you want to know what information I have?"

"Assume away, wife of my cousin. Go ahead. Use your powers and check it out. I want to see your uncanny abilities in action."

"I'm not that disrespectful. I was taught better than that and by a man who was more a gentleman than you'll ever be. So, I'll do this the easy way. Read my lips, Peter. I. Didn't. Do. Anything. I. Know. _Nothing_."

Peter somehow doubted the words, choosing not to answer and letting silence go between them. However, he could not tell if he was violated or not or if his mind had been manipulated to believe her. Again, there was no way to tell. In the meantime, he could just drop Danielle off at the apartment building. When the limo finally stopped, he called for the usual security escort and passed Danielle through the reporters outside, handing her back the clothes she wore this morning when picked up. Peter then left Danielle at the door without another word. She entered the suite and allowed security to check the premises before allowing her to settle down. When that was finished and she was alone with Mae and Michael, the guards closed the doors behind them.

"There's been news," Mae began, allowing Michael to go to his bedroom and play with some toys after greeting his mother.

"If it's what I heard, then don't bother." Danielle shrugged off her jacket, suddenly feeling ridiculous in the clothes Peter had given her. She tossed the remaining articles on the couch. "We're going to be blamed for it."

"For what? Leon triumph in beating back the Mexicans?" Mae barked out laughter. "Oh, Danielle, how silly of you!"

"Wait, you didn't hear the news about the Ferris brothers?" Danielle was confused.

Mae stopped her laughter and scrunched her forehead into wrinkles. "What are you talking about?"

"The Ferris brothers? The two men who like hanging onto the coat of your brother?"

"Yeah, I know of them. What about them?"

Danielle hesitated before saying anything. "They had been assassinated while campaigning with Leon. The only thing I received about the situation was that they had been shot in the head."

Mae's mouth went agape. " _No_."

"Yes," Danielle confirmed. "And I think I know who did it."

"Hold that thought," a voice behind them said. When Mae and Danielle pivoted, they saw Mystique in her usual maid disguise, her gold eyes shining before changing back to brown. "We're not speculating this."

"Why now?" Danielle demanded, hands on her hips. "The style of execution fits on person alone."

"And we're leaving it alone," Mystique announced. "Now, I have more information about it and we're leaving it alone. I also have other news that's more important anyway."

"What is it?" Mae was curious, putting a hand on Danielle's shoulder to calm her down.

"First off, Roger is planning a pick-up by next year," Mystique revealed. "Ellis has conquered northern Mexico and pushed their forces back for miles. He's elated despite the Ferris guys getting their due."

"As well he should be." Mae sounded bitterer by the victory than she initially was.

Danielle eased her arms to her sides. "Is he moving forward?" she asked, afraid of the answer.

"Working out a deal," Mystique confirmed. "However, I think it's a trap. He has his eyes set on the country and moving down south. He doesn't seem so concerned about Canada…for now anyway. Peter Ellis is going to be sent up there in two months. In the meantime, armies are massing those borders now."

"How many people versus what Leon has?"

"Canada has more than enough people to make a siege last for years, much like Russia can. They are also calling for reinforcements from the Commonwealth."

"That would mean all of the old dominions from England would help us." Mae seemed a little more relieved.

"If they agree," Mystique warned. "We don't know their feelings, especially since one of our own killed the enemy and was brutal about it. Most of them are tired of the US messing things up and are doing everything in their power to stay away. However, if Canada is up in arms and trying to keep the power contained, then somebody's attention is bound to be grabbed. It only takes one loud voice to get the others to come running."

"And us?" Danielle felt like they were the bait and that they would somehow be forgotten. "What will we do?"

"This is why Roger is taking the year to plan," Mystique replied. "If Ellis is distracted down south and Peter can't cut through Canada, then there's a huge chance. With or without the Commonwealth, we can get through too."

"Get through what?" Mae felt the suspense was suffocating her.

"Get back on reconstruction and win this," Mystique said, glaring at Mae like she was dense. "If Ellis is focused someplace else, then we have the opportunity to cut through their own lines…and strike him down by stabbing him in the back."


	26. You Miss Her, Don't You?

**April 1, 2001**

It had been almost three months since Teller reopened his bar. However, business had been very slow to pick up since no plans had been made to make the economy better. Xavier supported him as much as he could, but there was so much that even the Professor could have done. Instead, Teller dipped into his savings and did the best he could to attract people back inside. Because most of Salem center knew them to be mutants and partially responsible for their takeover, they did not want to enter. In the meantime, Teller advertised and soon found himself a few richer patrons that were a small group, but ones that did not like Ellis.

Logan sat in his usual spot at the counter one night, drinking some beer. If he had to be honest with himself, he missed the place and was glad to be back. It had been a few years since he was seated there, sipping a beer and enjoying the music. Things were different now, in a sort of shell-shocked way that he did not want to recognize. The circumstances are practically the same, but the characters were not. Teller employed people from the mansion to do menial work still, although they were getting younger and younger, and he controlled them better than he did with Vinnie Paul. Logan had to admit too that Teller could be cruel, crash and rude when he wanted to be, although this time, he was kinder and gentler.

On the other side of the counter, Rogue wiped down the dust that settled thickly and constantly since they had been gone. Bobby and Colossus were repairing windows (an almost daily task) and Teller was settling with some random DJ what he wanted for the night. There was no bouncer yet (Logan knew he was pegged for it though) and nobody guarded the back rooms that used to be the most revenue for the bar, with enough girls and booze to make a man happy. Teller was still working on that too, wishing it always to be the old days, when it was easier to be a mutant.

"Hey, kid, get you a Coke?" Logan asked Rogue while she was working.

Rogue turned to Logan, the cloth in her hands. "Not now, sugar. Maybe later. Need a refill on the pitcher?"

"Not yet." Logan looked at the almost-empty jug. "Got any news from town?"

Rogue frowned. "Nothing more than the usual."

"What's that mean?"

"Just what I said. People here are unhappy, they don't want to be here and they want Ellis back. They feel like they're stuck here without help and it's against their will."

"Nothing new there, kid. The only way we can work that is through rumors and showing them the truth."

"You can't just tell them?"

"People thrive on word of mouth. The more negative something is, the more people believe it. Right now, they've been led to think that we're the bad guys and that makes rebellion thrive."

"And we're using Ellis' tactics against him?"

"Right, kid. We'll tell ya when and how."

"Well, I think Bobby got something started."

"What?" Logan seemed taken off-guard, he was that surprised by the revelation.

"Yeah, he was talking with someone down the road," Rogue recounted in a bashful manner. "They were just chatting and all and Bobby said something about the camps. Not too many people know about it. Bobby got asked what it was like and he described it in detail. He said that he saw them firsthand and he told that person about what he witnessed."

"He could have endangered himself and everyone else," Logan spat out, trying to calm his temper. He was almost blind with rage that a kid – a teenager even! – disobeyed orders to keep his mouth shut.

"But he didn't," Rogue protested. "Nobody's bothered us. People have been pleasant or more so than they've been. I think the town might warm up someday, if we follow along with the rules."

"War doesn't have a set standard or has rules," Logan countered. "You use whatever you can against your enemy to win. Most of the time, it ain't pretty."

"Well, I thought it brave of Bobby."

"And I think it's foolish. Tell him to zip it or he'll deal with me. If he's asked about the camp by someone in town again, he can tell all he wants to stick with the story. If that's a spark, I think we'll go with it. I'll talk with Hank and the Professor. We might need to ring in Roger as well."

Rogue's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah." Logan had calmed down by then when he realized that there was a bright side to this. "But if Roger is coming, you better listen to him. You might not be lucky next time around. I'm just wind compared to Roger."

"Is it true he can make fire out of his hands?" Rogue asked, curious and fascinated all at once.

"Bigger than what your little imagination can picture," Logan confirmed. He took another sip of his beer, admitting to himself quietly that he was enjoying his conversation with Rogue, even if she was annoying, flirty and very worldly.

In many ways, Rogue reminded Logan of Danielle in that aspect and that was what made their relationship more paternal than anything else. However, he could not possibly fall in love with Rogue. True, she was about the same age as Danielle when she caught Logan's attention. However, she seemed more like a child than Danielle, who had gone through so much more than Rogue at an early age, and she needed more protection than anything else. Bobby protecting Rogue was going to get them both killed. Bobby also had a bad temper and often acted without thinking. He was also cocky and had an ego that was too easy to bruise.

No, it was good just to keep the kid within sight and hope that she doesn't get into trouble. If the relationship grew and was done right, Rogue could be Bobby's controlling factor anyway. Good enough for Logan. He had enough of drama and pity parties when Danielle was that age and younger.

 _How is she now?_ Logan had to wonder. It seemed like forever since he had seen Danielle, although it was maybe three years. _What is she doing? What is she thinking? Is Mae still with her? What about Michael?_

There were too many questions that needed answers. All Logan knew was that Danielle had been shipped out of the capital and that her picture was planted on most of the major newspapers south of their border. Some of them filtered up north too, shots of her in the most casual positions. The most recent had been her touring some of the camps. Logan obsessed over them for so long that he memorized every facial feature on each page and even tucked them away in the couch cushions. She appeared distracted, tired and even sad. She appeared blinded by all of the lights in her face and how she was the object of attention.

The only thing Danielle managed to get put in the papers other than her pictures was a sentence repeated throughout each media outlet. Peter Ellis constantly let everyone know that she had no comments to make. However, at one point, one nosy reporter questioned Danielle on how she felt about the camps, since she was rumored to be a mutant herself and nobody within the Ellis administration had confirmed nor denied the fact.

"I wish everybody nothing except peace," Danielle managed to say before Peter ushered her away.

That phrase rocked the rest of the country. Everyone was speculating what she meant and why. It was even said that Leon Ellis was meticulous and did not allow too much information about his wife to be released, which allowed so much to be talked about. Rumors of whether or not she was a human spread too, which added fuel to this particular fire. The people of Salem Center always had a nasty word to say, but because they loved the dictator so much, anything he did was met with approval. Her secret was safe for now.

"Logan? Are you there?" Rogue peered into Logan's dreamy eyes. "What's going on?"

Logan snapped out of his daydream, taking another sip to cover his tracks. "Nothing."

"Do you want to talk about her?"

"How would you know it was a woman?"

"I've seen that look in my dad's eyes when my mom disappeared. He always thought about her and imagined her in front of him. He misses her, I'm sure."

It was then that Rogue got quiet, her hands still holding onto the cloth. She had a past she didn't like talking about, Logan figured. All he knew about her (other than her childish relationship with Bobby) was that she was picked up down south by Mystique and that her home had been destroyed and her family killed. It was a tragedy that could not be helped. It just took time to get past it and that was what Logan would have said had she not turned around and continued her chores.

Teller was soon on the other side of the counter, telling Rogue to get going. He turned on the TV above their heads when she disappeared and switched it to a news station. With the Black Serpents now in charge, it was nicer to have almost uncensored reporters telling the people what they needed to hear. Granted, some of it was in code and usually sent by Roger, but that did not matter to those who ached for the madness to end. This also came in handy when news from south of their borders filtered up and came with mixed news, all of them contradicting the other.

"It has been said that the Ferris brothers have been assassinated," one newscaster said when Teller found the right channel, standing near what appeared to be the New York/New Jersey line. "Although there have been reports that Peter Ellis had been involved in this investigation and might be a key suspect, it has been confirmed through the Ellis administration that Henry Jones Mitchel, a Vietnam veteran, was directly to blame. More details at six."

Immediately, Teller turned off the TV. "Well, I should have known," he started. "Old Chameleon is stirring the pot again. Good riddance to those brothers though. They were more than a pain in the ass."

"Instigators, I take it?" Logan questioned, pouring himself more beer.

"More than I thought," Teller confirmed. "Witch burnings all over again, I'm telling you. They were starting up the new laws about shooting on sight and no trials."

"I kind of figured as much."

"They were also the powers that tried to be behind the throne. They knew who Danielle was. They were the ones who were bickering with Peter Ellis there about the succession and such, claiming mutant blood had taunted the line. Ugly business, Logan. _Very_ ugly."

"Any chance we have at picking her up?"

"Roger is still working out the details. It's all about the timing. Be patient, Logan. It might take a year before we see her again she'll be back in your arms and begging for mercy before long."

Logan ignored the sarcastic comment. "When?"

"She might do it on her own," Teller said. "Roger might just pave the way for her and she'll flee. I can't say it enough, Logan, but be patient. It won't be long now."

"You all keep saying that."

"Well, Logan, patience isn't your strongest suit. Start making it."

Logan allowed his left middle claw to make the gesture he thought was best to reply to Teller. Finishing up his drink, he turned around in his chair. While the nightlife was quiet for now, a few people entered and commented on how much the place had changed. Rogue was soon making them welcome and setting them up at a table and asking for their order. Colossus and Bobby continued their work on the windows and soon moved to the DJ table, starting up the radio. Teller had since vanished, possibly to his apartment upstairs for whatever reason.

Flashing lights and slow music reminded Logan of too many good things, memories that he had to hold onto for the time being. The only thing he could do was watch the action, hope the kids were doing the right thing and drink. He always hoped that he would forget, but he found out that he remembered too much more…and that was a problem that he knew he would have to face and very soon. He only hoped that he would be able to hold his resolve until then.

~00~

Roger watched through the binoculars from his position. His house hunting in San Francisco yielded an apartment across the street from Danielle and Mae and that seemed to be a relief. Forsaking Canada for now and leaving Scott in charge of his cabin (and running to the border and back), he decided that he was going to be bold and dare himself to stare at his wife when he could. It was eye candy surely, but it also calmed him down and allowed him to sleep at night. She was alive and that was all that mattered to the maser spy now.

When he heard the door open behind him, Roger turned around, putting the eye piece back on a nearby table. He folded his hands into each other like in prayer and stared at the woman who appeared before him. She was an ordinary maid, dropping her equipment to the floor without ceremony and walking over to take a seat next to Roger. She was calm and collective, but her tension was evident and enough to cut through.

 _Mystique._

"How goes it?" Roger asked. "I assume they're still settling in?"

"And ready to go," Mystique confirmed. "Mar is most anxious to be rid of her brother."

"All in good time." Roger unfolded his hands. "We won't have a good shot at anything until Ellis comes back from Mexico and makes his next move. He's still vacationing and has been controlling his hands carefully, although I'm sensing an undercurrent of doubt."

"And Peter Ellis?"

"Still small, comparably speaking. He hasn't even lifted a finger in the Ferris brothers case, but has been trying to gather his own army. In the meantime, the leftover generals are at the ready, although they're very bored."

"Can't make up his mind, I take it?"

"Of course. Old Peter Ellis won't be himself if he didn't."

"When does he plan to move north?"

"I assume this month. It's only the first of April. There's enough time for him to start his spring campaign."

"We'll be ready."

"We usually are. Now, how do you think we can get Mae, Danielle and Michael out of here?"

"Distraction, I think. If we can cause enough trouble for Ellis all along the Canadian borders, then he'll have no choice but to pay attention."

"I agree."

"Furthermore, Roger, Ellis needs to be out of sight and too busy to see his own wife, son and sister. Once he is and security is lax, I can get them out of there. After that, they're going to be on their own in order for their tracks to be covered."

"I can take care of that," Roger promised. "I'll have a line of men ready to get them back to our side. I'm sure Scott and Alex would love me."

"But I have to warn you, Ellis is more powerful than you think." Mystique seemed serious. "He may appear like he's weakening since we've taken the northern side of the country and have Canada on our side. Right now, he has sympathy. Millions of people may be hungry, tired and scared, but not enough are motivated and more are too frightened to come out of their homes. We need more than rumors, Roger. We need time and more people. By next April, I am hoping that the deal with Mexico will make the country fall to its knees and we can stand in to help."

Roger rubbed his scratchy chin. "You have a point. You think the Mexican lands taken will lead to mutiny?"

Mystique did not seem surprised that Roger managed to get the news. Ellis had indeed taken over most of Mexico, smashing through with his armies behind him and claiming the capital to be his. He was now lounging on the beaches, claiming to be touring them with his mistress. Nothing new, Mystique figured. The man was a hard worker and got what he wanted, but he was also another politician who took too much advantage over the position he had.

"It might," Mystique finally said. "I would need more information. Think I can do a little more spying and less cleaning?"

"I would need a replacement maid." Roger frowned again. "I don't have too many people who would take your place, so this will be tough. I'll message Jubilee first though. Ellis is keeping her as a prized mistress down in Mexico. Let's see if she'll pretend to be sick and come back up. I can make her a new identity then."

Mystique nodded, standing up. "Good. Are we settled?"

"Except one more thing," Roger answered. "Tell Mae…"

Looking into the master spy's eyes, Mystique noticed that Roger faltered. He was breaking down, she noticed. The time away from his wife, his stepson now locked away in relative safety back in New York and handling the whole Black Serpent charade was taking its toll. Mystique knew that Chameleon was out there somewhere and was helping in the best way he could. However, it was Roger running the parade and it would be him that would die from exhaustion if he didn't slow down.

"I

"I'll let all of them know to have a little hope," Mystique decided to finish. "You, on the other hand, need some sleep. Want me to post someone at the door?"

Roger waved Mystique away. She obeyed, picking up her belongings and heading out. In the lobby downstairs, she told another Black Serpent man to watch out for Roger and make sure that he was still in good health. Then, she headed across the street and back to work. On the way back up to the suite though, she thought. Like Ellis, they needed a strong successor in order to keep the momentum. However, unlike Ellis, they didn't have as much as a following as people thought. A year could change everything, the shape-shifter decided…and this year would be the beginning of the end of Ellis and his cronies.

 _Everything will be better than it ever was and then some._ That must Mystique could promise herself this time. _It'll be the end of the hatred and bigotry and the time for equality and love. I cannot allow it to go on like this anymore. This will either end a lot of people or it'll end me and Hank. I just know it._


	27. Switching Places and News

It took a week of persuading and begging, but Jubilee was able to make it out of the country. Stuck in Mexico as Ellis waged his battles and toured the beaches, she had to promise the dictator everything before he allowed her to cross the border and head back to the US. She claimed a sick family member, something that merited some pouting from Ellis, and then said that death might come if she did not leave. He thought himself too important and wanted Jubilee for his very own, believing that he alone was the center of her universe and not some ill relative. After appealing to his sensitive and caring side, off she went and back to San Francisco.

The city was different from times gone by, Jubilee thought as she walked to the apartment complex Roger was stationed at. A lot of the activity and bustle was gone. California had been tamed enough by the Ellis administration and was no longer the center of free love and peace and carefree days. Businesses seemed empty and the people even more so. She didn't seem like being a suspicious character to those who eyed her, but Jubilee had also been stopped too many times to realize that this country had turned its back on the common person and always expected the worst from a stranger.

Jubilee entered the building and went to the third floor, finding the door she was told to knock on by Roger's main guard downstairs. Banging on it three times (per the code), she waited until she heard two from the other side. When she did, she twisted the doorknob and came inside. She then saw Roger leaning against a table, holding onto his chest. He appeared pale, sweat pouring down his face from his dark hairline down. Immediately, Jubilee ran to him, but he waved her away.

"It's nothing," Roger insisted. "Give me a minute."

Jubilee doubted it being a minute before the master spy improved. She waited until Roger had recovered enough and watched him sit down at the nearest chair, away from the windows. He motioned that she do the same. She sat down, still noting the paleness and sweat on Roger's older face. He took a deep breath, appearing to be fine (even if there were traces of sickness on his face), and started.

"Mystique feels the need to run off again," Roger plainly stated.

Jubilee nodded. "I take it you need me to babysit for a bit while she spies?"

"I've got false ID paperwork for you. All set and approved by the Ellis administration."

"Fine, fine. I can take it from there once you give it to me. What about you?"

"Back to New York soon before I get tired of cold showers. I think I need rest to make an invisible man reappear."

"Far chance you'll get. Like Chameleon will come out for you anyway?"

Roger laughed. "Yeah, I know. With Canada set for now because I've got Alex and Scott, this coast needs some new eyes. I'm hoping Mystique isn't gone for too long before taking over. You'll be here temporarily and then get sent back to Ellis. Maybe he'll amuse you and set you up in your favorite state. Who knows? Well, anything from the old man anyway?"

"The usual." Jubilee yawned, feeling this to be old news and wishing Roger had something better to do with his life other than minding others' business. "I never knew how tedious a man can be until I've met Leon Ellis." She snorted. "Asshole. He thinks himself a stud."

"What does he do all day other than play?"

"Complains about things out of his control and recounts stories when he's the winner. It's one or the other. He'll start one day about his so-called adventures in Vietnam some decades ago and then about how he got to be a lawyer and all without help and using his keen mind."

"Yeah, yeah, like Teller and Chameleon did nothing for him. Chameleon saved his ass many times overseas."

"Right. So, he'll talk about that and then how much he hates his wife and son and sister and how glad he is that they're away from him and locked up."

"How exciting."

"Well, he also talks about how much he loves Danielle too. Poor deluded soul. Ellis must be pretty conflicting to love someone he condemns to hell."

"It's contradictory, I'll admit. However, it's Ellis. Madness runs in the family and it ain't pretty. And I married into the family, for God's sake!"

Jubilee was tired of talking about her pretend paramour and changed the topic. "Tell me about the others."

"Depends on who you're asking about," Roger said, taking out a cigarette and lighting it with a Zippo that came from his front pants pocket. His hands shook as the lighter drew the flame, something that made Jubilee wary. Roger always used his fingers to light his smokes.

Tempted to take the cigarette away, Jubilee sighed. "Let's start simple. Jean, Scott, Lorna and Alex."

Roger blew some smoke out. "Jean is at home in Canada with Lorna, Wanda, Peter and Magda and busy making children. Last I hear earlier today, she's pregnant again. Wanda and Peter are bickering and Lorna…well, she's Lorna. Keeping secrets from Alex and running her life in the shadows. What do you expect?"

"Alex and Scott," Jubilee reminded him.

"Ahh, the ever-faithful Summers brothers…different in every way and annoying as fuck and a pain in the ass. Well, Scott has been traveling from border to safe house. He's been counting and sending refugees away. Alex…Alex has been picking up Ellis' little spies for me. He's been kinda pissy with it too, traveling like he does and being away from the one he loves the most. Lorna must hate me for it."

"I can see that. Now, Magneto, the Professor, Logan, Teller and Hank?"

"Magneto is still in prison somewhere deep, sweets. Mystique wasn't able to locate him yet and is still looking. I'm not too interested since I know he's an asshole and will survive somehow. The Professor and Hank are sitting at the mansion with a few kids they want to use and they're not just students. Teller has been also employing them at his bar, which he reopened with little fanfare and lots of booze and gaining more girls. Logan has been his normal beaming personality. What else do you need to know?"

"Anything on Nightcrawler?"

"Nothing, Jubilee. I haven't seen him nor heard a word. He's just disappears when he wants to and then pops back up. It's random, so much so I can't keep track."

This worried Jubilee. Nightcrawler had been with her since their graduation. However, in the confusion after Ellis had been raised to dictator, Jubilee saw less and less of him since he was undergoing his own investigations and running mutants to safer places. He was employed to help them defeat this common cause and was supposed to work with them, but might have fallen victim to the many purges Ellis had. Roger had been searching for him ever since and even with his skills, he had yet to scrap the bottom of the well.

Hearing that Nightcrawler had at least been seen was a balm to a wound Jubilee did not want to reveal to Roger, even if he knew that she cared deeply for Nightcrawler. She had been so worried about her friend, more so than she would let on, and hoped that he was ok (and cursed Roger for having the news before she did). However, the phrase of "No new is good news" never sat well with Jubilee anyway. She hoped to hear more soon, even if it's bad.

Jubilee blew out some frustrated air. "We need to find him, Roger."

"We need to find a million more people and then some," Roger pointed out. "Not now. One step at a time. I'd love to have my wife back with me within the year and not have to worry about some rogue mutant who I can't keep track of. Besides, Logan has all been begging to have Danielle picked up and that's been like that for four years now. You're just one in a line, Jubilee. Don't worry though. Nightcrawler is out there somewhere. He'll reappear when he wants to and has already proven he can take care of himself."

"Yeah." Jubilee had to take Roger's words to heart. She knew she would go insane otherwise.

Roger put a reassuring hand on Jubilee's shoulder. "Get back to work, kid…and don't look back."

Jubilee grinned. It was the best advice that she had gotten so far. Roger was right. She could not look track of their vision, not even something positive might be in sight. She just to keep the faith and move. However, the worst part was dealing with Danielle after so many years. She had remembered the lonely and yet annoying child from long ago with so much talent behind her. Seeing her defeated usually would have brought Jubilee joy. Instead, she felt burdened and cursed Mystique for leaving her this chore. Now, she was wishing she was back with Ellis, sitting on a beach and sipping a drink…

 _That was the life._

And that was the only thing Jubilee missed about her end of the assignment. Everything else could go to hell.

~00~

Disguised as her replacement Jubilee, Mystique managed to get into Mexico and was back at Ellis' side three days after Jubilee left to see her sick relative. By the next week, they would switch parts again and that would end Mystique's brief reign of power as the woman behind the curtain. However much she dreaded this, especially playing the part of Ellis' lover, she was keen on getting the information she needed. She needed to know where they stood and how to proceed from that point onward since things were so dim back home.

Playing her role well, she walked around with Ellis, acting in every way to be interested and happy. She discussed nothing more than Ellis wanted to hear, nodding every now and then to compliment his stories and decisions, and even went as far as whispering in his ears about being the most powerful man in the world. It disgusted Mystique to no end. She bit her tongue though, doing this and that thing before Ellis retired to his bedroom at the end of each night. She was dreading having to join him, but Ellis waved her away. She was not to share his lounging tonight.

Pretending to be dejected and saddened by the verdict, Mystique left, closing the door behind her and facing the guards that lined the long hallway. She walked carefully, trying not to attract much attention, and almost blew her cover when she saw blue clouds appearing and then disappearing. Holding back her surprise, she proceeded back to her rooms, trying to catch the whispers behind her (none were loud enough to decipher), and locked the door behind her. She then went to the balcony, gazing out into the starry night. Jubilee had it great, Mystique mused. A beach house with a beautiful room and view on the second floor and anything she wanted.

 _No wonder she didn't really want to leave. Ignoring a dictator's needs is easy._

Mystique sat down on a rickety rocking chair and swung her feet underneath her. Mystified with the scene, she waited for the mysterious blue clouds to reemerge again. It did not take long before the mist became a real person too. Nightcrawler sat on the opposite chair, grinning at her like they had been friends for years and that this was just a casual meeting.

Nightcrawler certainly had been mysterious the last handful of years. After graduation from Xavier's school, he did not speak to too many people other than Jubilee. Even then, he kept running under the radar and refusing to be a part of Ellis' plans for people like them. Not even the Professor had been able to keep track of him, an admirable and amazing thing to achieve, and he managed to keep underground enough that Ellis did not know he even existed except on paper in a school that was not supposed to be functioning anymore.

Most certainly, it was a trait passed down through the generations, but Mystique wasn't going to admit anything… _yet_. Nobody was ready for that revelation.

"What do you know?" Mystique asked in indifference, toying with the idea of making believe she was truly Jubilee. However, Nightcrawler recognized who she was and only smiled.

"Nothing more than the usual, my lady of illusion," he admitted with a shoulder shrug. "Ve might have a rebellion on our hands."

"What kind?"

"Dissatisfied. Unhappy. Tired."

"Yes, yes, the usual complaints about war and games."

There is one brewing underneath this dictator finally."

Mystique folded her hands together. "Perfect. We can work with that, even if we're falling apart ourselves. How big is this?"

Again, there was a shoulder shrug. "Small. It is growing though. Supporters are becoming less. The dictator might need to use the military to keep order."

"It's enough for Roger," Mystique declared.

"It's enough for _us_ to use," Nightcrawler pointed out.

"All in good time, I think," she reassured him. She was about to say something about what their new plans were when she heard a noise outside her door.

 _Ellis? His guards?_ Who knew?

"Go," Mystique mouthed to Nightcrawler. When he vanished, she got up and answered the door.

It was Roger, dressed as one of the guards.

"You know how easy it is to get past Ellis?" Roger asked as soon as Mystique closed the public to them. He was dashing in his disguise, but the shape-shifter could easily recognize him through the bold military uniform, even if he was obviously ill.

"You know how easy it is for you to get so sick?" Mystique volleyed, seeing how pale Roger was. "How long did it take you to get here? And I thought you were going back to New York?"

"A few hours and an easy slip of some sleeping draught. I'm heading back to New York after this, I promise. I was curious, especially since I just got a whiff of a certain person we've been searching for…"

"If you're inquiring about Nightcrawler, yes, he's here somewhere. Actually, he went back underground. He didn't stay too long."

Roger swore under his breath. "Dammit, woman, did you have to let him go?"

"Yes," Mystique defended hotly. "Didn't know who was on the other side."

"Well, it's just me and I'm heading back out soon. Say, did you know that there's a little rebellion under Ellis' nose?"

"So I've been told."

"Work with it. Jubilee has been ordered to keep an eye out in California until she comes back. See if someone will talk to you."

"The way they whisper, I seem to be persona non grata. I am the right-hand woman for Ellis and I have influence. They're not going to talk to me about their dirty laundry."

"That's the point. So, do what you can and Jubilee will take over from there. Oh, and one more thing…"

"Yes?" Mystique had no time for more chores, although she took Roger as patiently as she could. She had enough to contend with and doing one more thing might make her go mad, more than she is right now.

"Be careful," Roger warned. "It's a dangerous world right now and even I need to tread carefully."

"With what?" Mystique challenged.

"With war, nothing is so certain," Roger reminded her. "You, of all people, should remember that, a survivor of the apocalypse like the rest of us. Watch your step, Raven. The next one might land you right back in a jail cell. Even I would not be able to get you out this time."

Before Mystique could say anything more, Roger disappeared out the door and into the night.

* * *

 **Nightcrawler's origins have been debated since his debut into the comic universe. However, as alluded in the chapter, he is the son of Mystique and Azazel.**


	28. Closer to Fire

**August 30, 2001**

Roger had to admit that it was relaxing to return to New York and not have to worry about running an organization and a disorganized region, thinking about his wife and son and throwing the stupid people out of the race to beat Ellis. All summer long, he sat in complete harmony, taking no part in the politics and trying to still the growing anxiety inside of him. He had not realized how close he was to dying. However much he did not care for his life though, he still had to think of those who he had to rescue and those who had been left behind.

He watched the news with dismay too, something he snuck in when Hank wasn't looking and checking to make sure he didn't drop dead of a heart attack from the stress (and one he was close to having). While Peter Ellis had been battling them at all borders and without success, his cousin the dictator had returned from Mexico in relative triumph, hoarding all of the treasures he managed to grab, claiming the area to be his new vacation spot and dragging back thousands of natives to his camps. The dictator mentioned nothing about Danielle, only stating her last public comment to be made by one who was so sincere. He also stated that Michael was still his heir, although he addressed the rumors about who he was and declined to say whether or not the child was human.

At four years old, the public wanted more than the official pictures of a child they hardly saw. They wanted more than the typical family man that claimed to be helping his family. The media from the south begged for the threesome to show themselves in public together and to display their united front instead of the wife and son being sent away. From what Roger had been hearing, word of mouth was nasty towards Ellis and his habits, most of them directed to the abandoned wife and son and flaunting a mistress.

Rumors always fueled a good fire, Roger mused, although that was backfiring on him too. Sitting in a chair outside on the back veranda, toying with a purple flame in his hands, his mind went back to Mae. He thought of her day and night. His bed had been too cold for some time now, something that bothered him the most. Ever since they married in 1994, Roger had gotten used to the reassuring, warm presence that always tossed and turned and grabbed an arm around his neck. Now, he was alone in a queen-sized bed, his body aching for Mae and his tears left hidden.

He always wondered if this was how people felt when their other half died. Roger pondered the implications of that, quickly dismissing them since it was impossible in his book. He was resolved to get Mae back alive. He cared a lot for Danielle and her son too, although he was loathe to admit it, and wanted her back alive too, but Mae… _she_ was his priority and his heart and soul. She was the light of his life and the reason why he was living. Knowing that she was not dead was a balm, although it hurt him more that they were apart.

Hank soon joined Roger outside, carrying a tray with a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses. He placed the goodies on the table, watching Roger inanely before the master spy realized who was sitting next to him. He turned to look at Hank in an annoyed manner, but accepted the drink as he extinguished his fire. He poured himself a glass and sipped slowly. Nothing alcoholic in there, but he would sneak something later and behind Hank's back too. He just _had_ to!

"What news?" Roger asked, something he uttered each time he saw Hank.

"Nothing," Hank replied, the usual response.

Roger sighed, slamming his glass on the table and startling Hank into a nervous jump. "Hank, I'm better than I was four months ago. I think the threat of a heart attack has passed. God, I've never felt better in my life and I have you to thank, more so than you believe. I think this is the most relaxed I've been since Erik and Charles visited me in jail and bailed me out. Give me a break. I have a group to run and they're wondering why an invisible man calls the shots instead of me. Now, out with it. What's going on?"

"Good news or bad news?" Hank didn't want to tell Roger everything, but conceded that he had a point. He wasn't going to tell him everything though, leaving it to his spying skills to figure it all out.

"Anything goes. Tell me about the summer, Hank. It's been too quiet for my tastes."

"Fair enough. I'm sure you heard about Ellis' return to the mainland. It's been all over the place. Next, we have Teller. He's settled back in his bar and would not sleep in the upstairs apartment. He was almost killed two months ago when he was tidying up the place. Logan was there in time."

"The kids?"

"Excited. They're all happy to be earning some money and running to McDonald's when they can't stand the food here anymore."

"I'm just surprised the franchise is operating."

"What do you expect from one that caters to having an obese population and giving people low-paying jobs? It kicks our economy and keeps people content."

Roger nodded. "What else?"

"Well, back to Ellis for a second." Hank seemed nervous. "He's led a victory parade to California and has been residing in the same suite as Danielle. He's stayed in Mexico long enough to miss his wife."

"Oh, goodie," Roger said sarcastically.

"I assume that, since his progress has been slow and his vacation time about over, he'll be out of California soon enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Roger eyed Hank suspiciously. He imagined roasting the blue fur in frustration and dismissed the thought, thinking that Xavier would fry his mind if he tried. He liked Hank too much anyway.

"A chance, Roger. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Well, people are unhappy with Ellis, right?"

"Some, yes. A lot of his guards are. The general population is split down the middle. All he has between him and death is the military. He has their full support. Without them, he is nothing."

This made Roger think. To control the military meant a lot more than he realized, more so than spreading nasty gossip about the Ellis family. He needed to get through to them and persuade them to turn the tables. Ultimately, that was the best way and it might take a few years to get there, but it'll be faster than word of mouth. If what Hank was saying was right, then it was truly the armies that controlled everything and Ellis is just leading them along. They could dispose anyone and be controlled.

It was a challenge that Roger was up to, a new purpose that would propel him forward and not at the stalemate they've been experiencing with Ellis. Anything to get things set straight would be perfect. All he needed to do was find Chameleon (who had been camping out in Canada recently) and gather together the Summers brothers. Those two would be perfect for the next job Roger had brewing in his mind. Other than ensuring that Peter Ellis did not cross through their lines, Roger was sure that they finally found a way to get to the core of their problems.

Hank saw the brightness on Roger's face. "You've got an idea?"

"More than that," Roger admitted, his feet aching to get up and run. "Charles available?"

"He's downstairs teaching a lesson," Hank offered. "If you're thinking what I'm thinking, then don't. You're not moving for another month and that's an order."

Roger groaned. "I don't _have_ a month to lose, Hank. If I get this done now, we stand a chance to end this forever. Even you said so. There's a good chance right here!"

"I didn't say what kind." Hank felt defensive, his hair now on end.

"Regardless, Hank, there might be something we can do. We have a key and I am willing to use it."

"Use someone else."

"I don't have too many people I can use and trust to lead this mission and get the results I want. I could use one of the kids, but that's too much for them and they're not that experienced. Teller is busy with his bar, Charles can't exactly travel and you…well, you're diplomatic, but I know you're strategizing in that head of yours."

"With Logan. He might do it, but he's too busy."

"Yeah, I wish I could use him, but with Canada so greedy to keep him, I can't afford losing him to the snow."

"I understand. Send a message north?"

"If you can believe this, I don't like using anyone in Canada for this."

"Well, there's Scott," Hank offered coolly. "You just have him ushering refugees across the border and handling security there. He knows the ropes, keeps a level head in battle and can work his way out of any situation."

"Except being used as a double agent," Roger muttered.

"Don't hold the past against him," Hank warned, sighing. "Roger, Scott is a grown man now and almost as good as his brother. Brief him and send him out instead. We need young blood out there. I think he's proven enough."

"And his eyes?"

"I'm sure I can develop a pair of glasses to make him less conspicuous. If that's the issue, I'm certain he can handle that. It's not like he hasn't had his fair share of teasing."

"His family?"

"Jean can take care of herself and her children. She has Magda, Lorna, Wanda and Peter there too."

"Well, that's another thing. If I get Scott, I'll need Peter to accompany him."

Hank nodded evenly. "Peter's speed is certainly an asset. Go on."

Roger had to think about the first, working it out in his mind before speaking. He didn't want to reveal too much information, even to a friend. "Hank, you hit upon a very good point. Originally, we played with the public. Always a fun thing since Ellis did the same to us and it got us to where we are now. Today, I'm seeing that it might not be enough and that the true power may not lie with Ellis, but credited to those around him."

"That's a pretty risky chance you're taking."

"And this is why I need the time away. Since you are so concerned that I will drop dead from working too hard, then I need to delegate the duties to another and join them later. However, they need to be on my time. Not an issue for Peter, but I am worried about Scott."

"Use Alex for all I care if it makes you feel better, Roger. Just stay here."

Roger growled this time. _I am beginning to sound like Logan when he's pissy…_

"Are you going to give me the basics at least?" Hank then asked, seeing the fire in Roger's eyes. He understand that it meant that Roger was close to rage and needed to tread carefully. "I mean, if that's all you can give me…"

Abruptly, Roger stood up and left. He could not afford setting the place on fire, especially with a bunch of teenagers in the mansion. Frustrated with Hank, he stormed inside, immediately hooking a left-hand turn to find the door to the basement levels. From a distance behind him, he heard an explosion. He stopped himself when he found his destination, unsure of how to proceed now. He had to admit to himself that the noise startled him more than he realized. Granted, gunshots and such had been a part of their lives since the attempted invasion across the lines. This was new and much too close.

Peeking through a nearby window, Roger found Hank to still be at his seat, sipping his lemonade calmly and watching the distant action. Satisfied that he was safe for now, Roger made his way down the stairs. He passed the teenagers, chatting amongst each other in a circle. Ororo had joined them, trying to get them to calm down, but she failed. Joining in on the merriment instead, she corralled them down the hallway and away from Roger.

Roger had to admire Ororo's spirit. _What a conflicted woman._

On the other hand, Roger felt a little sorry for Ororo and praised her for her persistence. Even after going through a very rough patch herself, she had to sit there day after day and work with Matthew. Even after being rescued all that time ago, Matthew was progressing slowly and was hardly back to the way he used to be. He would not talk to anyone except Ororo and refused all help from Xavier. Everyone guessed that it was best he was with someone he cared for deeply, even if he raged against her constantly. Nobody took it to heart. To see him gain back his humanity seemed to be the best gift of all.

Fiona had been another story, Roger thought as he searched for Xavier downstairs. In his spare time and recently too, Logan took care of her. Everyone had taken the time to check in on Fiona, but Roger found that Logan was soon taking an interest in her recovery and was pushing her to start eating, walking and talking. Over the summer, the older mutant managed to get Fiona to become mobile around her room, eat at least a meal a day and hold a five minute conversation. Nobody knew why Logan was taking on an additional responsibility, but if Roger had to put his finger on it, it was because of guilt and Danielle most of all.

After checking out a serious of makeshift classrooms, Roger found Xavier in the last one. Gathering some papers together, the Professor was about to leave, but stopped when seeing the master spy. Smiling, he motioned for Roger to sit down at a desk in the front. Roger obeyed, trying his best not to snicker out something sarcastic. He was no student, although he sure felt like one the way Xavier was looking at him.

"Charles, I think I've pinpointed our true focus now," Roger started.

Xavier tilted his head slight to one side in rapt attention. "Oh, Roger? What is it?"

"Military," Roger replied. "Hank reminded me that we also have them to contend them. Words can whip up a mob, Charles, but the real control is with the people who helped Ellis be the dictator we all know and love."

Another explosion was heard, closer than the last. Xavier was hardly shaken, but this started to get on Roger's nerves, especially since he was cooped up in the same place for months. He checked the ceiling, feeling some dust drizzle down on his face, and wiped himself clean. He checked the Professor too. Other than being unfazed, he seemed genuinely sincere on listening. However, Roger did not think that he was being taken seriously.

"We cannot delay," Roger urged when Xavier said nothing. "Hank has me bedridden and chained to this place. You want peace? You can look out of your home and watch the town you grew up in destroyed. You want equality? Fight back. We might be dealing with a force stronger than we are, Charles, but if they can right the wrong, then so be it."

"Who are you planning on using now?" Xavier only asked, a gentle tone that drove Roger mad.

"Hank suggested Scott," Roger said as calmly as he could muster under the unusual circumstances. "I want Quicksilver with him."

"I think it would be a good combination," Xavier conceded, leaning forward at his desk. "Why don't you tell me more about this plan of yours? I think you might be right this time."

This surprised Roger. Despite the slight disability he had now, he was taken aback that someone was willing to hear him out. Even after so many years of taking control, the people around him had mistrust and regarded him warily. Now, it seems like someone was willing and had trusted him to do the right thing.

Roger only grinned. "I'd thought you'd never ask."


	29. Inching Towards the Light

The late August days were balmy and bright and turned the early September days into idyll times that resisted the slightest change. With so many celebrations going on in San Francisco and many of them so rambunctious, it was a wonder that anything businesslike could be done at all. Danielle peeked out of the window of their apartment suite, wrapping her arms around herself. She felt cold inside, even though the outside world was partying around the clock and all for her, Leon and Michael. His arrival back from Mexico and his victory over them was big news and all supporters and detractors came out in droves. However, even that was fading fast, their feeling slowly turning towards animosity and fear and all underneath too, waiting to bubble up and explode.

Anything regarding the battles north of them had been dismissed for the time being. The news about it had been dismal at best and the casualties high in numbers on both sides. Since Canada was reinforcing their borders with allies from countries opposed to Leon, the endless slaughter continued. Leon was not keen on allowing Peter to retain his command and moaned the loss of the Ferris brothers, something he did not do until the first night back with Danielle. Afterward, she held him as he cried on her shoulder like a child, spilling to her all of his secrets, trials and doubts.

It was more than Danielle could bear. All in the name of unification was she caught and in a whirlwind that became bloodier as the years past. It was four years ago that it all started, when she was kidnapped and forced into a marriage she did not want. She thought she could be perfect through this world that hated her and people like her. Danielle begged herself to be the wife that Leon needed even though she was a mutant that he did not like. She always bowed to his will especially when she did not agree with them. Now, only a handful of years later, she was standing on what appeared to be the edge of a precipice, holding her balance so that she did not fall and take her family with her.

Worst of all, she was pregnant again.

Danielle was horrified. Leon had been with her for several weeks now, demanding her attention day and night and with someone else always watching Michael. While Mae had been regulated to one side and isolated in one room on the other side of the building, Leon acted like they were still a couple with a handsome three-year-old child, the first family of the land. This alone made Danielle suspicious. She had to accept it though and without complaint, lying in bed like a ragdoll as Leon dove into her damaged body again and again.

And that was the best she had to do. She grinned and bore it, hiding the blood and greeting the new day with a smile. Now, Danielle had to think for herself and her family and look to leaving this city of eternal boredom. Mystique had told her time and again that they would be rescued and give the chance to escape behind their lines. This had to be it. Within the year, she would be freed from this hellish experience and given the chance to live again. Over the summer, even though the constant showings to people who adored her, she realized that she would no longer be of use to Leon. She was not beautiful in his eyes and could now be killed.

The only person who accepted Danielle for who she was happened to be stationed in New York still. Logan was far away from her thoughts constantly, but this late summer day, Danielle begged herself to relive the wonderful last night they had together. Oh, if she had to be declared unfaithful at this point, she'll take that title gladly. Now, after so much time being the person she could never be, she was more than willing to admit that she loved another man and that her husband was nothing more than a tyrant that forced her into a marriage she did not want to commit to.

However, Danielle knew it best to keep her mouth shut for the time being (thinking of what would happen to Michael if she didn't) and hope for the best in her husband's absence. Leon had left her the day before, reinstating Mae back to her rightful place as caretaker. For now, Danielle's secret was safe with her and her alone. The microphones and camera feeds still were manipulated. She would tell Mae in time and they would plan it from there. Leon had promised a visit in March. He just had to go back to the capital and plan with his generals about their next operation since the last had been going poorly before seeing his now-pregnant wife and toddler son. It was enough time to keep mum and scheme away.

Tired of her musings, Danielle returned to the dining room, sitting in a chair and concentrating on keeping the nausea down. About seven o'clock, she heard Michael getting out of his bed. That was late for him, she knew, and instead greeted him through their usual morning routine together nonetheless. He seemed out of sorts too, tired from being woken up from the people outside. Danielle could hardly blame him, changing his clothes and holding him, his head nuzzled into her neck for comfort. Michael did not talk much, but his actions spoke more than Danielle could say.

Within the hour, Danielle had breakfast at the table. She tried her hardest to not appear sick, wolfing down some food to pass muster since Mae had joined them, begging for coffee and some eggs and toast. Half an hour later, Michael was released to play. As he took out some of his toys and began reciting letters from an electronic device, Mae and Danielle sat down together and sipped their coffee. They felt lucky to be allowed such a luxury and even said so to each other. Leon had declared before he left that he was rationing and that the population will know true patriotism in doing so.

"A ridiculous notion," Mae mentioned. "I think my brother has gone over the deep end."

"Tell me about it." Danielle took a small sip of her drink. "How was your summer anyway?"

"Boring. Had a lot of guards run in and out. Some of them were friendly. We played spades, they brought me censured books and we had a party."

"Liar."

"Well, the bit about the games of spades wasn't. Mystique was actually the one who got me things keep the boredom away. Did I tell you it was hot as hell in that room?"

"No." Danielle yawned, stretching her arms out and repositioning herself in the chair. "Was it that bad?"

Mae stared at Danielle for a second and shook her head vigorously when she realized that she was asked a question. "Huh? Yeah. Yeah, it was pretty bad. I was suffocating. Leon was even nice enough to give me a fan last month. No windows were opened though."

"That's nice," Danielle said flippantly, sounding very sarcastic.

"I guess so." Mae was quiet for a minute. "Danielle, I need to know…are you…I mean, did Leon…?"

"Yes, yes, and yes," Danielle replied, seeing the awkwardness on Mae's face. She could not hide her pregnancy from the woman who helped to raise her anymore. "We need to plan accordingly then."

"When are you due?"

"If my calculations are correct, middle of April. If I am still right, it'll be another boy."

"Smooth, Danielle. Very smooth. You couldn't practice any form of birth control, could you?"

"Do you think I had a choice? Do you really think I could have walked out and gotten some condoms for us? Maybe some spermicide?"

"Any person should have a choice. It's only a matter of seeing that it's there."

"With what freedom?"

Mae was about to say something, but stopped herself. Danielle had a point. She shouldn't be blaming the girl for things out of her control. After all, Leon had to put up a good image and pretend he cared. People already accused him of cheating and that alone was tarnishing his reputation with the Christian right. Divorce had hardly been whispered, although some who knew who Danielle was were urging Leon to do away with her. Mae would not tell Danielle that, only smiling.

"I think Mystique should be here tomorrow," Mae offered instead, biting her tongue at Danielle's possible fate. "I believe that we should begin our planning there."

Danielle nodded, finishing her coffee and getting up to play with Michael as gently as she could. The day then passed in relative peace, disturbed only by the guards coming in and out and the occasional parade in the streets below. By nighttime, everyone was ordered inside, the quiet relaxing the three, even if it was eerie. By the time the sun came up and Danielle felt her morning sickness abate, Mystique entered the suite and began her usual cleaning. Danielle watched her from the dining room, this time sipping water in her seat as the dust flew through the sunshine.

When Mystique felt that they were alone, she motioned for Mae in the other room to form a conference at the table. Danielle kept an eye out for Michael, watching a TV show in the living room (something her husband surely approved of), and turned her ear towards the shape-shifter. All and all, Mystique was grim and tired and she wanted this to be over fast.

"What's the news?" Mae inquired immediately.

Mystique sighed. "Bad. I can say that the Black Serpents are winning the good fight, but it's costing us and Canada and their allies. Men, women, children…it's affecting us all. Ellis has his forces stationed like a long line across the borders. They can't retreat. Once someone is down, they replace it with another or shot the person who backs down from us. It's like they never run out of people."

"Sounds like they're not planning on giving up," Mae observed.

"No," Mystique agreed, "but it's costing them more than us. If you can believe it, some are unhappy with the dictator and are scheming to overthrow him. They're deserting to the other side if they can, with promises from the Black Serpents for clemency and safety if they can win. Morale is dropping and pretty fast too. The most die-hard supporters are trying to rally the rest. The military, on the other hand, is watching this carefully."

"Wait, wait, wait," Danielle butted in. "What about the military?"

"Ellis used them to help him win. As his wife, you should know that."

"I do. I just didn't know they had that much power."

"They do, more than your husband is willing to see. He thinks he can control them. In the end, it might be undoing. He's used them and backstabbed too many times."

Danielle shuddered. "Regardless, we need to get out of here."

"And quickly," Mae added.

"What's your rush? Mystique challenged. "I said next year and I mean it. You have some time yet."

"We have another life to consider," Danielle admitted, embarrassed that she had to.

"And I have a million plus to think about. Right now, Danielle, your pregnancy issues are inconsequential. Use that cunning mind Roger and Jay taught you to use and work your way out. On my signal, no matter what condition you're in, you, Mae and the little kid are leaving. That's final."

"How would we know?"

"I'll let you in the circle a few days in advance. When that happens, they'll be a clearing out of here. No reporters, no guards, _nothing_. There will be a vehicle in waiting to get you three to the border. After that, it's up to you or what Roger wants done. I can provide a map to get your across or guide you to transportation. That's about it. Not too many people would be willing to help a wife, son and sister of a dictator."

"And where would we ultimately be?"

"New York. Back at the school is my estimate. You'll all be safer there."

"That's near the fighting, isn't it?"

"Your husband's forces were pushed back to southern New Jersey, so no. It's a state away."

This satisfied Danielle, but Mae was still skeptical. "If they all know we're mutants, why can't they help us outright?"

"People on the other side tend to gain distrust," Mystique explained. "It's nothing personal. It's self-preservation."

"And you? Can't my brother locate you again?"

"He can try. By the time it happens, I'll be down in Chicago, tending some meetings and coming back as a different person. Don't worry about me. I'll just be keeping an eye out for that special someone Roger is also looking for."

"Who?"

"You'll see the person in good time, I'm hoping. Now, learn some patience and restraint. Give me until the beginning of April."

Mae and Danielle exchanged worried glances. This was truly bad timing and cutting it too close. However, they had to work with what they had and improvise later if the baby decided to come. Departing from California in April might be the best chance they had in escaping Ellis' strong influence. They would live anew and begin a new chapter and that might expedite the end.

"Done deal," Danielle said. "Now, what else do you need us to do?"

~00~

Late at night, Logan laid on his usual sleeping perch in the living room, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep. A night off from the bar and he could not get himself to dream, God damn Teller and his awful bar. The lights from earlier that night danced before his eyes and he had to close them to get out of his sight. Even then, he was seeing a redheaded woman blow a kiss in his general direction, a young eighteen-year-old that always teased him and called him names, the last one being an ancient asshole.

Immediately, Logan sat up, wide awake once more and his imagination vanished. He then turned around, sensing a presence nearby. It was only Hank. He entered the living room gingerly as he always had for the past four years and sat down in a chair next to Logan's couch. He fiddled with his fingers for a minute before Logan growled, wondering what the hell was going on. Hank did the same back and was just as menacing too, although Logan could hardly be scared.

"What do you want, Fuzzball?" Logan was in no mood for interruptions and people trying to break down his wall.

"News," Hank replied courteously, stiffly too." I thought you would want to know before Charles does."

"It's after midnight," Logan reminded him, annoyed. "What's so important?"

"Well, I just heard from Roger…his spies actually…that the Black Serpents have pushed Ellis and his forces back further south into northern Virginia and into West Virginia."

"Good. What else?"

"Camps have been liberated, about half maybe. Death tool is high."

"It's the cost of war, Fuzzball. What else?"

"Mystique finally sent word to me."

Logan studied Hank. He had to admit that Hank and Mystique had been avoiding each other for many years and hardly spoke a word, mostly because of her and her damned adventures. Normally, it was Roger or Xavier and Hank would sulk because she'd never socialize. Hank hated the distance between the two of them and resented that Mystique would evade him constantly. Now, it was different. It was a step in a good direction. For Hank to say that was huge and the smile on his face conveyed his happiness.

"It seems like you got something that involves me if you're telling me this," Logan observed. "What is it?"

"Mystique has sent word that Mae and Danielle are being shipped to Canada in early April and to prepare for their arrival." Hank seemed excited about it. "Roger has been informed and is taking precautions to ensure they get here safely."

"Oh, God," Logan uttered mostly to himself, feeling the breath taken out of him. The name in vain had not been said in decades, but today had been an occasion when it was the only thing he could say. "Oh, my God."


	30. Victory Amidst the Ruins

**March 30, 2002**

There was danger about and more so than ever before, even in light of the great victory not even a year before. In a drop of a hat, the tide of popularity had changed and it might not be to the advantage they wished. It was whirling around an unknown force and one that even Danielle did not want to contend with.

Very late one night, sitting patiently at the dining room table without word yet from her husband's cousin and holding onto her sleeping son and anxiously exchanging glances with Mae, Danielle thought back to the last six months or so. It had been a busy time and one that she wished could have been avoided. However, times had been tougher and she realized that she was in grave peril if she did not act and soon too. This was going to be their chance to run away and it would be their only.

Leon's win over Mexico had consequences he did not see or expect. Basking in the people's approval and winning them over with honeyed words, the dictator took the time to tour whatever was left of the country. Without Danielle and Michael by his side, he projected a pure image that included paternal care except he had nothing to prove. The new campaign even stretched to the population, with his speeches promising mercy and even guidance to a new and better future. If Leon was able to prove that he was good to his wife and son, he could show the same to his people.

Not so. Ever since the new law proposed all males aged fifteen and over to enlist in the military and barred women from positions of power and become part of the economy, his reputation had faltered and sizzled. With so many jobs left open and too little people to fill them, the suffering continued. Rationing was instated. Child labor was introduced once more, most of them taking the position their fathers or brothers should have. Anybody who flaunted their upper class status was maimed or worse, killed.

Even the issue of the mutants had come head-on. While the camps had been supported initially, they soon became a symbol of oppression and martyrdom. Everybody knew someone who was shipped out and forced into hard labor. They took this to the streets, battling the military, secret police and even each other in a fight that had their local towns and cities bleeding red. From there, the Red Cross – an organization that hardly survived in these times – gathered lists of the wounded, dead and dying from the time the camps were introduced until now, updating them almost daily. Even Danielle and Mae received these reports, scanning them each chance they got to see if they knew anyone.

The only person of interest was Snake Eyes. Danielle recalled Teller's slick bouncer and the day when he was picked up, never to be seen or heard from again. From the Red Cross, it was said that Snake Eyes (also known by his birth name of Carl McNamara) was first sent to a laboratory in South Dakota before the state was liberated by the Black Serpents. He was then rounded by before the so-called rebels could grab him and sent to another facility, this time in Texas. From there, he was experimented on and soon left for dead, along with hundreds of other mutants, when the building exploded for unknown reasons. He then mysteriously resurfaced at a camp in Louisiana and had been doing hard labor since, alive and working on a road for the Ellis administration.

Civil war continued and then raged around them, worse than it had been in some time. There was no unity or solid leader they could turn to since Leon seemed to be a poor substitute. Danielle scanned back to how it happened so quickly. Leon had gained the love of so many people in the years had been a politician, from his days in the House of Representatives to now, dictator of the country. He pulled them into his tight fold, persuading them of this righteous pathway, and he managed to pull off the most underhanded coup in history. Now, only some years after his ultimate rise, he was hated by most people and all because the days had not been better as he promised.

 _Maybe it's not that._ Danielle knew that the approval of the people was not the only thing that made the politician. It was also a force behind the scenes and something she even did not detect until recently.

It was the military. Leon had used them liberally, even now. Nobody had counted on them to say something. Even if they were used as advisors, they still had a say somewhere and it was usually the operations that Leon did not know about. It scared Danielle more than she'll ever admit. She thought that Leon had absolute power and could do as he pleased. Little did he know, military personnel had been leaking more and more into his government and holding the reins outwardly, filtering through the territories they held with Leon and whispering better promises in their ears.

Leon did not see this as he toured and blindly fought whoever he thought to be his enemies. No, he thought that the military (who he did not dare lift a finger for) were under his thumb and he was controlling them, not the other way around. In essence, it meant that they could do as they pleased with Leon and anybody connected to him could be eliminated, the targets being his sister, wife and son, all three of them in captivity on the other side of the country and within easy access of anyone who dared to try. Peter wasn't great with security except for reporters and other media outlets (as proven by Mystique). There was no way he could protect them all.

Danielle looked down at her pregnant body, sleeping in the tranquility of the night. There was another child she had to consider and not just Michael, both of them. She hoped that nobody else other than their inner circle knew, which her greatest wish was. However, with Peter always sending people over to watch them (and all of them different), she could not tell if they had passed word to her husband's cousin. She might have known by now if they did, but even that was a dangerous game she could not afford to play, her powers stilled by the law and too risky to use. She only trusted that she was able to leave with Mae and Michael soon enough.

Just after midnight, the front door opened and Mystique entered. She closed it quietly, staring at the three with nothing more than a reassuring smile. "Soon," she said.

"How soon?" Mae seemed on edge.

"Another hour, I would say." Mystique rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "Peter Ellis is readying the vehicles."

"I thought you said you were providing the ride," Danielle pointed out. Realizing that her husband's cousin was in on the whole thing made her anxious, more so than Mae was.

"Technically, the driver _is_ ours," Mystique replied coolly. "Nobody will know the difference."

"And the feed?"

"Turned off for now. Here's the plan though. Follow that idiot's footsteps. It's the best you can do and would prevent anyone becoming curious. He'll get you all to the car with instructions to remove you from California and move to Texas. Ellis has a stronghold there and the most supporters."

"No surprised. Texans have always followed him."

"Yeah, well, the road will be the same for a while. Four cars will be with you, one in the front, two to the sides and one in the back. They're also ours. In a few hours, they all will take a route north instead of south and disappear, so to speak. The license plates will be changed somewhere down the road so that they could not catch us."

"When?"

"Well, at first, Peter Ellis will do it. Then, once we reach our first stop, the driver will do it again. This will ensure safe entry to Canada. From there, the road will be smoother and freezing cold, so I suggest buckling up and taking advantage of some clothes we've got in the car. Got some winter coats and such in the trunk just in case. You'll need them before looping up and down into New York."

"Why New York?" Mae even scratched her head at this. "Wouldn't they look for us there first?"

"Not without getting past miles of security and very mad people who wants heads rolling." Mystique seemed so confident in the system. "Besides, I think you'll just _love_ the man behind it."

Before they could converse more, the door opened once more. Peter entered with three other men, all armed with guns. Immediately, Danielle put her arms around her children and Mae stood up and moved in front of her. The Ellis cousin only laughed, pointing his weapon to the ceiling in merriment. This was amusing, he mused, and too much so.

"We're leaving now," Peter announced. "There are too many shootings and riots here. Your things will be loaded and sent for later."

"So you've told us," Mae said sharply. "We've been waiting for you for a while now."

Peter looked at her severely. "I don't need to remind you, Mae, that I can easily throw you to the wolves. Roger isn't her to save you. It's been a while since he's been seen anyway and he might be dead. He's too busy avoiding a heart attack to try."

 _Don't listen to him. He's lying._ Danielle tried her hardest not to give into despair too. _If there was something wrong, we'd know about it. Roger is probably being stubborn and resting on someone's orders, if they found him in time._

 _I doubt it, knowing him_. Mae blinked back tears as she followed the group outside, Danielle, Michael and Mystique behind her.

 _I need you to stay strong, Mae._

 _If Roger is dead, I don't know what I would do. I don't think I can live._

 _Keep living your life then. There was a time before him and a time afterward, I'm sure. That's always the best thing we can do._

 _Follow your own damned advice._

 _I have been. How do you think I've been living without Logan for so long?_

The group soon entered the vehicle, an anonymous van with four unidentified cars around the corner. Mystique was about to climb in, but Peter held her back by the scruff of her neck, his hand gripping hard at her presumed action. He scowled at her, a wordless reminder that women who are lucky to have jobs should know their place, and waved for the three to go and shut the door behind them. Within seconds, the van took off and the four promised guards followed closely behind and in the positons promised.

Danielle watched the two figures grow smaller and disappear. She sighed, turning around and holding onto Michael tighter. He stirred in his innocent slumbers, curling up in the new position, and let us a peaceful whimper of contentment. Danielle felt little relief in that, begging for a child's guiltlessness right now. Even with a very unconventional childhood behind her and an adulthood that was oppressed, she wished nothing more than for son to not feel the same pain she had and to have a life unlike hers.

Within the hour, after driving through light San Francisco traffic and swerving around the night's prowlers, they managed to get to a highway and left the chaos behind them, going at an unusually fast speed. Just as dawn rose, they exited California and passed through the state line for Nevada. With the sunshine illuminating the deserted roads, Danielle looked out, seeing nothing more than sand and little plant and animal life. Michael woke up and begged to stop so they could eat. Mae agreed, voicing her concerns to the driver. He only nodded, turning to an exit and finding the nearest government-owned gas station.

While the van and the other cars were pumping the little fuel left in the country, Danielle ventured out with Michael and Mae to the restrooms. They cleaned and refreshed themselves and soon came out. One of the men handed them sandwiches and bottled water. Danielle nodded her appreciation, re-entering their ride with Michael and Mae and waiting for the drive to continue. Before it did, they noticed that their bodyguards drove off, leaving them alone with the person who brought them here.

For the first time, Danielle noticed that their driver was hooded and covered enough so that nothing facial could be distinguished. When he came back into his driver seat and removed his disguise, Mae could have jumped for joy had she not been strapped in by a seat belt. She groaned though, realizing too late that she was strapped in.

"Roger!" she yelled, rubbing her chest from the impact. "How did you…I mean…why?"

"More to follow later." Roger leaned back and kissed Mae. "We're off to Canada! We've got about an hour before old, foolish Peter Ellis sees that we're no longer on his GPS and sends in the goons. Any questions?"

"Are we there yet?" Danielle inquired humorously.

"Haha. Very funny." Roger did not seem to be in the mood for jokes. "Buckle up now, ladies and germs. We're heading up north and it's going to be a cold one."

"When will we be in friendly territory?"

"As soon as we can into Montana, where we're getting a second driver. After that, we're changing the plates for the last time and separating. Then, I'm taking Mae with me and you're heading east. Mae and I will be behind you. I've got business to attend to."

"What kind of business?"

"The kind that involves making sure Leon Ellis never rises again. I've got old Quicksilver and Cyclops right in the action. They're infiltrating in the center as we speak. Not very pretty, I have to say. It's a bigger hole than we realized."

"I take it it's also tricky to get anyone to listen?"

"That too. Be glad we got you out in time. A lot of them wanted you and Michael dead. In order to eliminate the head, the roots need to be burnt too."

Danielle paled. "Enough, Roger. I think we'll talk more later. How much time do we have anyway before we switch cars and I'm going eastward?"

"Give it a day," Roger said. "I have enough time to see where Jay is after I drop you off. That's a priority now too. So, what's your rush?"

For some reason, Danielle did not want to say, her tongue was that tied suddenly. She shuddered in fear, sitting still enough that nobody could detect her. Her abilities called to be used. She wanted to make herself invisible and to bring her children with her. Indeed, she should be rejoicing. They had been rescued and were being taken to safety. She would soon be reunited with the people she loved the most. Logan would also be there and he'd open his arms just for her and the children.

However, there was something else. When Roger asked Danielle what her hurry was about, a feeling enveloped her. She didn't know how and why, but all she could see was that the ending to this was going to be bad. She might be safe for a while and be picked up by the next day. Her husband had people who were more powerful than he was and wanted her dead. What would stop them from capturing her and ensuring that she too would be killed along with him?


	31. A Slow Decline

It was very slow-going. Not only did it take almost a week to get through to Canada due to low supplies, changing cars and even being chased by friendly and enemy forces, it took longer to find another driver and leave the area too. Danielle sat in a safe house somewhere in the British Columbia, unwilling to believe her luck. She and Michael were alive still. She watched the snow fall heavily outside, wishing that there was some way she could get warmer. Indeed, the house they resided in temporarily was chilly, even with a low fire in the stone-worn enclosure. With just her, Michael, Mae, Roger and some guards, it was also boring and tempers were high.

Roger was especially grouchy, grumbling when he could about how ineffective some people were. He was supposed to have someone at the house two days ago (and that was the latest promised) and nobody managed to get word back to him. It also did not help that Ellis' forces had decided to come back in full strength and were bombing the area, flying snow and ice everywhere. They all heard gunshots from a distance too, coming closer and closer daily. It meant that a line was breaking and that they were losing a long and drawn-out battle if their own people could not hold them back.

"Shouldn't we just leave ourselves?" Danielle asked finally asked when she saw that the company was no longer bearable and she was anxious to depart.

"Not yet," Roger replied from his position at the table, motioning to the dining room chair. Danielle obliged this request, crossing her arms as the master spy continued. "I just got word that there was a major snowstorm out east and that's what's delaying everything. Not just that, but kids, kids and more fucking kids. I am tired of running a daycare."

Mae came up from behind Roger and kissed his whiting head. "Now, now, Roger, it's not that bad."

"Too many damned people are breeding a new generation that can be used against us!"

"And what about Gil? What is he to you?"

"An adult who stays out of my way when I tell him to and tinkers with technology that I can't imagine. Did I tell you he's got cameras all over the place and has recorded most of our actions? Gotta be strange to see Shannon's actions from way back when."

"Aren't you so proud?"

"He's got more on tape than I do in my mind."

" _Anyway_ ," Danielle interrupted (not wanting to think about her mother and who saw the suicide), "we are not going to be alive much longer if we remain behind. Snowstorm or not, if Leon's armies get past ours, then we're back to being prisoners and worse off than we were. Can't we just start on foot and find our own way? Wait until the storm clears and be elsewhere?"

"Possible," Roger conceded, "but it's too dangerous and full of risk."

"Either decision will lead us to that regardless," Danielle argued. "Life is full of it these days, Roger. Get over it. We're all going to die. It's a matter of when and how at this point."

Roger was about to cut Danielle in half with a remark, but let it be. There were so many changes that came over the youngest Mitchell sibling that he didn't know where to begin. She was a scared teenager when she left the mansion, breathless from the announcement that a teaching department was within her grasp and then wounded by a knife attack. Over the course of a handful of years, she had turned onto herself, isolated so much that she did not know what communication meant anymore. She focused so much on protecting herself and her family, still believing that she could do good with the position she now had, that she was pessimistic and more blunt than she ever had been.

If the master spy had to put a finger on it, Danielle was suffering from a syndrome that he dubbed "Love the Abuser". The girl called the hated dictator by his first name and bristled when his name was mentioned in a negative manner. Inside though, there was the old spark of an outspoken woman who dared herself to do more. There was a hatred for the same man who did her harm and Roger had to grab it and use it so that Danielle could be herself once more. This new woman was startling and honestly too scared of her own shadow to do much except run into danger blindly.

 _God, do I wish Jay was here_. That was something Roger wanted fervently. He had yet to find Jay. That was something Roger vowed to complete, no matter what would kill him.

"I'll run out and see if someone got the message," Roger decided to say instead, sighing. He would work on Danielle later. "It'll take me a day. Stick inside. Don't let them see your pretty face."

"I plan on it." Danielle uncrossed her arms and watched Roger get up, dress for the weather and leave. While Mae shot a dirty look, Danielle did not care. She got her way.

Promises were kept. The next day, Roger returned and announced that a car would be available by the first clock chimes of the next day. He tracked down the people who were supposed to be picking them up and soon found them stuck in a ditch. Their tire had been shot at by unknown hands and they were left there, deserted and unable to call for help during the storm. Roger and some others managed to change the flat and pull them out. They only needed a few hours of sleep and they would meet them around midnight.

"Perfect," Danielle said, smiling as she rose from her playtime with Michael. "Less risk."

"Not necessarily," Roger replied. "If they don't know who shot at their car, then we have another investigation on our hands. There's someone out there, friend or foe, that is undermining us. Even though we've weeded out a lot of Ellis' little spies, we still need to pinpoint where opposition is. After all, what is a rebellion without a little resistance within the ranks? Counterrevolution is too much fun."

Danielle nodded. "Not everyone is always happy with who's in charge."

"Especially since your father has taken over all duties and nobody sees him?"

"No surprise there."

"Yes, yes, well…nobody is without their flaws. Maybe you should remember that next time you fuck up."

The comment stung and it was done on purpose. "Maybe one should recall that some things are unforgiveable," Danielle said, trying to end that particular subject.

"In one's own humble opinion," Roger remarked quietly. "Now, we're getting out of here tonight. Pack your things and prepare to have no sleep."

Again, Danielle nodded. From her position, she observed her son playing on the carpet, oblivious to the turmoil now swirling around his innocent circle. It was best that way, she decided, and better yet for him to stay away from his father. Danielle longed for the stability from her husband, even if it seemed safe behind bars. It was predictable and she could anticipate his every move, although she was bored to tears in her prison. This… _this_ was torture, to be sent from one side of the country to the next and not know what was going on. There were too many unknown factors, too many things that can go wrong, and that nagged at her dread.

From that time until the moment they left, Danielle pretended that all was well for Michael. When he was finally asleep, she prepared for the next leg of their journey. Packing what was left of their belongings that followed them from San Francisco and opting to be without some, she soon squeezed herself into another vehicle's back seat with Mae and Roger, Michael in her arms. The driver took off carefully, watching the icy roads. Behind them, Danielle felt a vibration and heard some yelling. It could have been her senses kicking in, but she wasn't so sure. Shrugging her shoulders, she faced eastward, eager for the trip ahead.

The ride was quiet. Mae and Roger sat next to each other and entwined their hands together, sweet nothings whispered between them and ensuring that nobody else heard them. Danielle did not think Roger so sentimental and loving. She chalked it up to their separation of many months and turned back to Michael. She curled back with him in the most comfortable position she could get into and started drifting off, her eyes fluttering. Before long, she awoke at dawn to some noise behind them and the car lurching at an unusually high speed.

The first thing that Danielle noticed was that Roger was halfway out the window in the front without a seatbelt, shooting. He pulled himself back in, his face displaying everything except panic. "We're outnumbered," he panted to her and Mae, putting his gun away. "We need to keep moving and hope for the best."

"What happened?" This made Danielle worried.

"We're being followed," Roger explaining, holding ono his chest like he was in pain. "Someone tipped off Peter Ellis and his men are chasing us. They managed to get past our line of defense and speed ahead. We're going to need to make ourselves disappear."

"How?"

"You tell me. You're the best in that department."

"I'm not that powerful. You've got to be kidding me though, right?"

"Not this time. Unless you've got another plan, we need to vanish and quick!"

"Or they can. Have a knife?"

Roger grunted something similar to assent and pulled out a large, dull blade out of his side pocket. Danielle agreed that it was not the greatest and one of Roger's worst, but it would do. As the car sharply turned and headed uphill on a snowy road, Danielle rolled down her window, giving Michael over to Mae. She waited patiently, calculating in her head the angle and speed, and flicked the weapon out towards their enemy with all of her strength. True to the aim, the tip of the blade hit the tire, causing their pursuers to lose control of their ride and veer off the road.

Danielle sat back down and took Michael back from Mae. Luckily, he was still sleeping, ignorant of this near-miss. The mother settled back in, telling herself that this was just the beginning. Peter sending people to do his bidding and to capture them was just the tip of the iceberg. He would do anything in his power to get her back and there wasn't going to be enough knives to hold them back.

 _We should have left earlier. If we did stayed, it would have been too easy._

Time seemed to have slowed down by then. Danielle heard a buzzing in her ears and wanted to tell someone about it, even down to the feeling of sensing that Jay was nearby and asking her to combine their powers. When she tried, her tongue felt like it was tied down. Instead, she turned her head to see how Mae and Roger were faring, and soon felt their bodies fly out of their seats, racing in all directions. An explosion behind them had rocked the vehicle off of the road!

" _No_!" Danielle finally screamed, holding her hands around Michael tightly and thinking fast. There was no time to waste…

The car rolled off of the road at the high speed, crushing and destroying each side as it tumbled down a steep incline. By the time it reached the bottom of the hill it was crushed against, five survivors emerged from their protective blue and silver bubble, only bruised and dazed. The last out was Danielle, drained of energy from her power usage. She didn't even have time to think. When they showed each other that they were alive, it only allowed them to become targets. When the shooting from behind started up again and a battle ensued, everyone scattered into different directions.

Mae went to call over her shoulder to Danielle that they'll meet up later, but the older woman did not see her or the direction she headed to. When Mae and Roger managed to stop in a shelter some yards away, waiting out the chaos above their heads, Mae noticed that there seemed to be no indication that Danielle was there in the crash, even if they saw her for a second. While their driver had hid himself in another safe place, the younger woman was not in sight…and neither was Michael.

Danielle and Michael had vanished without a trace.

~00~

About a week and a half later, Mae found herself back in Salem Center. It had been years since she step foot in her hometown and she found it in almost the same way she left it. The backbiting, snobbish and gossipy people were still there. Small changes made it a war zone that was slowly rebuilding and attempting to reunite with her brother's crumbling empire. While there was resentment that they did not get their way, the sentries that guarded the area nonetheless made it less military and tried their best to keep the peace.

She and Roger entered through the security before the mansion and came through the front doorway. They dropped the belongings they managed to take with them, a bag for each of them, and looked around. It was too quiet. Roger whipped his head left and right and soon eyed something down the hallway. He pivoted right, dashing down that direction and yelling something Mae could not discern.

"Roger, wait!" Mae yelled, out of breath by the time she and Roger stopped.

The master spy and his wife halted before Logan, who appeared in every way to be heading downstairs to the basement level. Mae had not seen the older mutant in some years and was alarmed by his appearance. Before she went into hiding in upstate New York, Logan had the looks and energy of a man who was maybe in his early thirties. In the interim, he was closer to forty and supposed to be aging slower than most people were. He had some white on the side of his head and his forehead was wrinkled in a way that made Mae think that he had more cares on his shoulders than most anyway.

"What news, Logan?" Roger then asked, the insanity in his rash action exhausted.

"Still the same," Logan answered, looking at Mae skeptically. "How did it go?"

"Ambushed," Roger confirmed. "We got separated after our car went off the road. Car itself is totaled. We spent the last week or so in hiding before we got picked up and brought here. We walked into town and to here."

"What do you mean? Who got through?"

"A small army of maybe one hundred. We beat them back, but the damage has been done. They're patching the hole left behind and the enemy has been retreating slowly. If we didn't shove when we did, Ellis' new men would be here by now. Besides, I think our favorite dictator has more to worry about than just not winning. Civil war has resumed. He has to battle with his own people in order to survive."

"Where's Danielle?"

The question jarred Roger and Mae. They did not expect to have it inquired about so soon. Indeed, they both did not have the answer that would make Logan less worried nor could they tell him the worst of the news. Roger had men comb the area to see if they could find the woman who saved their lives. He himself even went back and tried to use his tracking skills and all to no avail. The only person who could possibly locate Danielle was Xavier and that might be a long shot too. Danielle had the ability to close off the Professor, a powerful mutant with a machine that catered to his abilities.

"I don't know," Mae admitted finally, watching Logan's face fall sadly. "I don't know."

"But we'll find her," Roger reassured Logan. "No doubt about it. We will find Danielle and bring her home."


	32. Under the Silver Moon

Ororo heard the commotion above her head and was glad. Roger had returned safely and had brought Mae with him. However, the news that Danielle and her son were missing felt like a black cloud over their heads wanting sunshine. As she sat quietly with Matthew and Fiona in the infirmary, she brooded over this news with a mixture of dread and happiness. Of course, she was glad that one of their goals had been reached. However, it seemed to be at a high cost and one that she did not want to contemplate about.

Indeed, she felt that she needed something to do. Her body ached to be outside of the mansion and to do something better with her life. With a country so divided, their forces pushing back and forth and even a chaotic town, she could not be cooped up anymore. Matthew's progress was at a standstill and Fiona hardly wanted to talk to anyone anymore except for Logan and that was too small of a step she took. The teenagers were not paying much attention to their lessons and hitchhiked on over to Teller's bar with Logan constantly. Ororo needed a new mission and she needed it outside of her comfort zone.

It's not to say that she was completely recovered from her ordeal. Ororo still had nightmares of those nights when she was captured, used as a play thing for Peter Ellis and worse. She could not bear the sympathetic faces still. She also could not look at the same people who she had grown up with, feeling it a far worse fate than that after the Great One had recruited her to his cause for destruction and renewal. Now was the right time for redemption and that alone could be achieved by her and her alone. She needed control and power back.

After seeing that Matthew was no better for the day, Ororo rose from her chair and proceeded upstairs. She found Xavier and Roger in the former's office, talking about something in hushed tones. They consulted a map on the desk, Roger pointing to various places and whispering something about moving people there. When they realized that Ororo was in the doorway, they stopped their conversation. Roger rolled up and paper and Xavier gave Ororo a genuine smile.

"Do we have all of the mutants we were looking for?" Ororo asked, vaguely remembering that Roger was trying to find one more teenager.

"No," Roger replied carefully. "My men have located the last one, but she's very evasive. She runs through walls and they're unable to lock in on her next exact location. Not even Charles can keep track of her."

"Let me find her then," Ororo urged. "She might be frightened and think your men are Ellis' secret police. You can hardly blame her."

"She has a point," Xavier conceded. "She can emphasize and possibly rescue the girl."

Roger did not think so. He thought Ororo to still be too soft and recovering from an ordeal that there might not be a solution to. He eyed her with some suspicion, thinking that she might be undermining him, but dismissed that thought. She had been cooperative in the past and she might be malleable now that she did not speak her mind so much. It was only a matter seeing why Ororo wanted to leave and find this teenager and why she felt the best person to do the job that grown men could not.

"And bring her back here?" Roger looked at Ororo severely.

"Why wouldn't I?" Ororo sighed, her forehead wrinkling. "Where can she be if she's that quick?"

"California, last we heard. She lost herself in the crowd last time my men tried finding her."

"Carrying guns and shiny toys, weren't we?"

"I'll note your sarcasm and chalk it up to you being so distressed. Now, you gonna stand there and argue with me or are you gonna act like a team member and hear me out?"

"Just as long as I can leave today with your information, I'll be fine."

Xavier saw the eagerness on Ororo's face to depart. He wanted to know more, thinking her cabin fever was most likely generating from sticking inside for too long and taking care of the invalids. He did not want to pry into her mind though. He figured that she would come forward in her own time to explain everything. For now though, he believed it a good thing that Ororo wanted a mission and from Roger, of all people! Her spunk was coming back too and Xavier considered that a great sign of progress.

"Start down in Los Angeles," Roger instructed, motioning Ororo forward and pointing to a map on the wall of the former United States. His finger rested on southern California, tapping it a few times firmly. "I can have some people take you up across the lines and give you an ID and disguise that would make Ellis' over-glorified squad believe you're completely human and without question loyal. You'll be on special assignment, according to your paperwork. You're in search of a missing student, which is what this Kitty Pryde really is, and you're the case worker from the school."

"That's easy enough." Ororo breathed easily. Social workers did not need to carry weapons. Her powers were enough.

"Finding her is the tough part," Roger reminded her. "The kid can run through walls, trees, fences… _anything_. Just be careful. She's a very fast runner and has been known to throw a knife or two when she feels threatened."

From a drawer, Xavier pulled out a file and handed it to Ororo. "I think this would assist you as well," he said. "Originally named Katherine Pryde, she originated from Chicago, Illinois. Ordinary life until the current administration began and she was targeted."

"She ran off as soon as she could, like many kids," Roger added, crossing his arms stubbornly. "Thinks that everyone is out to get her. I don't think it helps that civil wars makes everyone distrust of each other, parents and children included."

"I would believe the same if my parents tried to turn me in too." Ororo took the file from Xavier and flipped through it quickly. She saw pictures of a normal childhood marred by a political situation that exploded. She closed it, relating to the blonde-haired girl who loved dancing and reading through piles of books, and looked to the pair before her. "Can I leave today?"

"If you must," Xavier replied, feeling saddened that she was keen on this adventure. "Do not worry about us. I will tell anyone who has a need to know. I will also keep an eye out for Matthew and Fiona personally."

Ororo smiled. "I will appreciate it. Thank you."

When Ororo closed the office door behind her, hoping that the meeting behind her would continue, Roger and Xavier exchanged glances. It had been too convenient that Ororo popped in and offered her services for this particular teenager. Previously, Roger had been telling Xavier that there had been reported so-called terrorist activities in California, all of them involving the same person they had been searching for. Witnesses named this Kitty Pryde the center of the events. She had been named as the main conspirator who had been freeing camps and laboratories, breaking into supply trucks to give to the starving population and robbing from officials and handing them over to the Black Serpents.

All of this and avoiding Roger and his men!

 _The nerve of that kid._ Roger smiled too, turning back to Xavier.

"Storm being there might soften things," Xavier pointed out. "If Katherine Pryde is truly part of the aggravation, then we might have the ability to tame her and use her anger toward something more constructive. We can localize her."

"She's just one of many, Charles." Roger sighed as well. "She's just another hotshot kid who thinks that having the upper hand will get her somewhere and that fair is fair. She'll use whatever resources she can in order to achieve that."

"But the feelings will consume her."

"Charles, you always want to help the hurt and it's nice and all. Yes, we know the feelings will take over her mind, but –"

"Roger, you misunderstand. Storm taking the initiative might heal her as well as Kitty Pryde. Sometimes, putting two hurt people together in the same situation assists them in more ways than just the usual."

"You believe that Storm will hold this one's collar and the girl will pull her back in?"

"Precisely. You're catching on, Roger. You're also not as dense as I thought."

Roger had enough for the time being. Saluting Xavier in a mocking fashion, he took his papers and went the same way Ororo did as well, except opting to go outside. Spring was in the air and so were the annoying children that they were plagued with. Roger passed Rogue and Bobby in a corner by the fountain, staring at each other intently and perhaps whispering their sweet nothings again. He also noticed Gil, his stepson, talking with Mae on a bench by the basketball court. After almost tripping over Colossus, who sketching something as he laid on the grass, Roger had enough. He walked a little ways, down to the woods where he and Logan (as well as many other kids) used to hang out. He had yet to see the older mutant today. It seemed to be the only place he'd hang out these days anyway.

Sure enough, Logan was at the clearing. He chose not to sit in his customary spot high in the tree branches, but on a log near the stream. Years of dry weather and droughts had minimized the water levels and none had reached Logan's boots, weakly lapping inches below. He was smoking his cigar though, very still as Roger approached. Logan suddenly turned around, his face a grimace of an almost animalistic feature. He calmed it though, chewing on the end of his vice and glaring at Roger with annoyance.

"Yeah?" Logan seemed to be in a foul mood and did not want to talk. He even twisted back to his original position, facing forward.

Roger knew better than to come closer. He'd seen that look on Logan before. "I thought you would want to know what has been happening."

"Shoot."

"Storm has decided that she wanted to go to California and pick up that last teenager I've been trying to nab."

"It'll be good for her to not be here. Go on."

"Charles thinks the same. I'm starting to think you two are related."

Logan growled a warning. "What else?"

"I'm thinking Teller has been too low key on his advertising," Roger said instead, all in an attempt to change the topic. "Not enough revenue is being generated."

"Not too many people have money these days," Logan reminded Roger. A ring of cigar smoke circled him and evaporated.

"We also offer our own set of moolah and then some. Trying to stick with what used to be is difficult. Minting it is worse and more time and effort than it is worth."

"So, what are you thinking?"

"Making more and trying to boost our economy if I con a few people to man the machines. Can't exactly run a separate country without that, you see. The Black Serpents offer jobs, but that doesn't pay enough and whatever Ellis left for us is in shambles. No organization and too much work."

"Isn't that your job and Chameleon's?"

"Need more hands. Two people can't handle it alone."

"You said that when you got the position. Deal with it."

"You denying me this time?"

"Yes, deal me out. I can't do multiple things when I have more than one thing I need to do. Roger, I've got security, diaper detail for kids at a bar, spying and even the occasional kicking. I can't run a country. Ask the Fuzzball. He'll be better for the job."

Roger barked out laughter. "Hank? _Really_?"

"He's read enough books on law and politics to show for it." That much Logan recalled.

"After months under his thumb, I don't think he'll like the roles reversed and being under me." Roger wrinkled his forehead, trying to ignore the days when he was stuck on his rear and was ordered to do nothing. "I'll give it a shot. I trust you more if I had to be honest with you, Logan. You do good work."

Logan had enough of Roger at that point. "Yeah, well, whatever I do, it's never nice. It always ends in death."

The master spy saw the conversation over and left, feeling a bit morbid. Shaking his head, he muttered some choice words about how stubborn and annoying Logan was. The older mutant ignored it, finishing his cigar and thinking about the past. Oddly enough, he missed it. Even if it was hopeless, they still felt like a family that tried their hardest to stick together and defeat a common enemy. Nowadays, they were separated by the same man who drove them together in the first place.

Logan wanted to linger outside for a little longer. He wanted to feel the waning warmth on his face as the sun set and shiver with the nightly cold. However, even he could not afford the luxury of being alone. He had some things to do inside, the most important being making sure that the teenagers were in bed and not sneaking out into the town to drink and run to McDonald's. He proceeded to walk back to the mansion, stopping only at the front door because he scented something off, albeit familiar. It was typical for him to have the smell of blood around him though, seeing as how Salem Center was often the epitome of violence. Shrugging his shoulders, Logan went inside, intent on completing his mission.

Later that night, when everyone was asleep, Logan stayed awake, hands behind his head as he laid down on his usual perch. Throughout his rounds, he kept having that one aroma stay with him and that bothered him. Getting up from the living room couch, he watched the windows, seeing nothing in the darkness outside, still in the serene sky. He then decided to go back outside, to quell his curiosity if nothing else. He heard some scratching at the door anyway, hoping to dismiss it as maybe a stray nocturnal animal.

Logan opened the door and was about to step out when he saw a large item shimmering before him. He adjusted his eye sight, thinking that he was perhaps witnessing a mirage or another kid mutant who needed help, but it wasn't. Before him stood Danielle, very pregnant and carrying her son, who as asleep in her arms. Danielle stared at Logan in horror, her eyes wide and her body almost covered from head to toe in blood – hers and others'.

Where she had been or had done, Logan did not know. However, he knew that Danielle needed help and needed it soon.

"Logan," Danielle whispered, soon collapsing into his arms.


	33. Carry You Home

Logan paced the hallways like he was the expectant father, Roger had to conclude as he watched the older mutant from a distance. For two days, ever since Danielle came to the door and he carried her and Michael inside, Logan had stayed nearby, kicked out of the infirmary only by Mae, and hardly paid attention to anything else he needed to do. Rogue could have made a pouting face at him and Logan would have dismissed her without a single thought. Bobby could have threatened to vandalize the school walls outside and be ignored. That was how worried and distracted Logan was.

Roger decided to risk talking to Logan, something he avoided unless he had to. He put a reassuring hand on the older mutant's shoulder once Logan stopped and soon was facing eyes that begged for Danielle to be ok. Roger had no words. Honestly, he was not the comforting type of person and always moved on when something didn't go his way or he at least tried to change it. Granted, he was not going to admit the nights he spent without Mae were used weeping into his pillow, but that was beside the point. He could not afford giving Logan the luxury of false reassurances, especially since the woman had also been screaming in labor in that time frame too.

"Do you know what happened?" Roger inquired instead. This would take Logan's focus off of the present and perhaps get some information.

"No details," Logan conformed when he saw Roger, the first words he spoke in some time.

"I would get them if I were you."

"I would tell your wife it allow me in if I were you."

Roger realized that there was an impasse and sighed, seeing the adamantium claws out. "Mae isn't going to let you in to get in her way, so we're going to have to wait until Danielle is awake and aware before bombing her with questions. God, I want to ask her how she did it."

"Did what?"

"Driver lost control of our getaway car. Everyone lived thanks to Danielle. Gotta love her powers."

"You mean to say that she somehow linked with her brother and protected everyone?"

"Yes. And she can do things on her own, Logan, or as Charles understands it. Even he can't get to the bottom of this barrel. However, if Jay was nearby, it might explain some things."

"How is that search going?"

Roger wrinkled his forehead in frustration. "Finding Jay, you mean? Going almost nowhere. After Shannon's funeral, it seems like Jay disappeared without a trace. Ellis wanted to make sure Jay appeared when he wanted him to and not before. However, if close by, his powers as well as hers would flare up. It seemed that way on the day we crashed. There was some sort of flash and then, before we knew what happened, we were rolling around in a blue and silver bubble inside the car. Jay might have been imprisoned close by and tried his best to send his sister some power in a moment of heighted emotional tension…as Charles would say, I should mention. Might want to scout the area later on unless Ellis has other plans."

"I'm not planning on leaving," Logan announced, crossing his arms.

"I get it, Logan. I really do. However, if I need you to jump, you're going to ask me how high and get there."

"I told you, Roger, I got too much going on here. I'm not taking orders when you've got others besides me. I am no man's pawn except my own. We're a team."

"Yes, yes, I know. Charles has got you and Danielle is here."

"Not just that. Kids, security, Teller…any of that mean anything to you?"

"Jay Mitchell has now become a package deal, Logan. With Danielle here, we need to complete her with Jay or else Ellis has the chance to kill them both. You got what you wanted. Now, Danielle needs her brother. I can redirect people on this mission, but you're better at finding the missing than they ever would be. If Ellis intends to kill both Mitchells, he would have a better chance keeping them separated and then torturing the one so much that he would want to die."

"What's this got to do with Danielle?"

After hearing another deep howl of pain from the other room, Roger hoped to get Logan away from the doorway and allow Mae to do her work in private and without someone hovering in the background. Guiding the older mutant down the hallway smoothly, Roger was able to find a bench so the two could sit. When they did, Roger sighed again. This was very tiring, he mused, trying to figure things out and move people one way or the other. Logan was not that by any stretch of the imagination, but explaining things that Xavier decided to keep hushed up was difficult. Roger was not banned from saying anything. He just was told to keep confidence where it should be. Logan was in love with the woman. He should be in the know.

"When Jay was born, Shannon noticed different things about him," Roger began, seeing the claws finally retract. "Even going back and forth like you did, Logan, I think you would have noticed a kid who was so dreamy that he hardly paid attention to anything and had to be watched almost twenty-four seven. Charles thought that he might have some development issues, but when he saw that something was up with his mind, like something was missing out of it, he bided his time. When Danielle was born, Jay changed almost overnight. He was attentive, chatty and social."

"That I remember." Logan did not want to think of those days, but the puzzle pieces started coming together.

Roger continued. "After Chameleon…I mean, after he left, Danielle and Jay became one part instead of two, like two people rolled into one. They could connect at a level unlike anyone else. However, Charles started thinking that, since each of them had control over the other and vice versa, if one of them died, the other would too. This started coming up after Jay left for the Middle East. Danielle went insane because he was, was depressed and all of that jazz. She only told Charles, didn't like everyone knowing. Well, except for me, but I've had my eye on her for years."

"What's your point?"

"Well, from what I've heard from Mae, Danielle has been in the same state since they started staying in that shitty apartment building. Disoriented, not thinking clearly and nuts in general. Jay was gone for a short period of time before being booted from the Army and that alone almost drove them both crazy. Now, it has been years since the two have met and the last time was for a short period. It's essential we retrieve him too, Logan. Jay and Danielle will survive."

"Why hasn't anyone said anything before today?"

"Because we didn't think we'd get Danielle. We thought Ellis would lock her up tighter and let her die. Seems that she's more inventive than we thought."

"Patience is something that had to be taught. I'm sure you and Jay instilled that in her."

"Well, that and she escaped under the most unlikely odds. We thought we were in the clear, but we were chased by Ellis' stray guys."

We push them back? I thought we were trying."

"Barely, Logan…just barely. Ellis' forces were scattered, luckily due to their own civil war brewing inside their lines. So, now Ellis has to contend with us as well as his own people arguing amongst each other."

"What happened there?"

"Let's just say we instigated."

"I knew that. How?"

"People, Logan, just good people. More details will be broadcasted at five."

"Haha." Logan's immediately head whipped back to the doorway he had been waiting at. He noticed that the inhumane screaming had stopped and there was crying, weak and thin. He stood up suddenly, anxiously waiting for news.

Roger recognized what this meant and got up with Logan, putting a hand on his chest to still him. "Easy does it, man. Wait for the wife to come out. She'll tell you everything."

But Mae did not come out immediately. Time passed slowly for the two men, both of them wishing for the door to open and all for different reasons. Finally, after half an hour, Mae exited, carrying a bundle in her arms. Instantly, Roger and Logan rushed to her, stopping quickly as soon as they saw how startled she was at the stampede. She then shushed them, pointing to the baby in her arms.

"Since you two aren't so interested, I'll leave you to your business." Mae said in a hush. She then looked at the red-faced baby and stroked the soft cheek in a loving gesture.

"Danielle?" Logan was impatient. He had spent five years without her and another moment seemed like an eternity.

"Sleeping," Mae confirmed. "Leave her alone. I'll let you know when you can visit."

When Mae went in the opposite direction, Logan felt himself almost fall apart. He was a persistent person by nature, but this was ridiculous. All those years he spent alone and wishing for Danielle's presence…all of that and he had to wait until Mae said so. He wanted to resent everything that prevented him from seeing her and quelled it. He had no reason to be mad at children and he couldn't begin that now. No, he redirected his anger at Mae and about to go after her when Roger stopped him, holding him by his back shirt collar. The master spy hardly had control and used all of his strength to keep Logan from running.

"Not after her," Roger warned. "I'll talk to the wife and sweeten the pot, as it were. Do your usual and wait for her to tell you otherwise."

Logan did not need to be told twice. He managed to calm his rage, choosing instead to head to Teller's for something to drink. And for the next three days, that's what he did. He remained at his usual spot at the counter, watching the kids clean the place and serve drinks and then round them up late at night. During the day, he managed to keep security around the area and even had to stop a riot in Westchester with Roger. By night, he had to stop himself from running to the infirmary, passing Mae with nothing more than a smile. Roger said he'd handle it. Logan had to trust that and forget that she was here.

By the time the sun came up on that third day, Logan finally remembered that Danielle was downstairs and that she and her children were safe. He did not race there like he wanted to, but continued with his day until Roger stopped him on his way out the door. Logan was going to Teller's to clean up from the night before, but decided that whatever Roger had to say was more important.

"Took me some hours last night, but I got it," Roger said, sounding very smug and triumphant too. "Wife said that you can see Danielle now. She even barred Charles for a while, but he's getting his chance. I'd check it out if I were you, before Mae changes her mind. Salem Center can wait, I think."

Logan conceded and nodded. As calmly as he could, he walked downstairs, passing the kids in the hallways on their study sessions with Hank in charge. Logan even greeted the Fuzzball himself, waving in an amicable manner, and was soon at the infirmary doors. They opened for him in an instant. From there, he found Danielle at the far corner of the rows of beds, talking in an animated way with Xavier and appearing very refreshed and relaxed. The Professor himself was saying his goodbyes and stopped before Logan before departing.

"I promise you, Logan, it was only for a few minutes," Xavier reassured him.

When Xavier wheeled himself out and was out of earshot (and hopefully not listening in otherwise, although it would not surprise anyone), Logan moved to the side of Danielle's bed, noting that she too was staring at him in wonder. They took in each other, choosing not to speak and not believing that they were seeing the other. Danielle held her breath, telling herself that the man before her was not there and that she'd wake up in her bed in San Francisco or in DC. When she didn't see either room, she released some air and reached for Logan with aching arms.

 _Trouble is her only friend and he's back again._ _  
_ _Makes her body older than it really is._ _  
_ _She says it's high time she went away,_ _  
_ _No one's got much to say in this town._ _  
_ _Trouble is the only way is down._ _  
_ _Down, down…_

 _As strong as you are, tender you go._ _  
_ _I'm watching you breathing for the last time._ _  
_ _A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,_ _  
_ _I know what it means and I'll carry you home._ _  
_ _I'll carry you home…_

Logan had enough room on the bed. He climbed right in, holding onto Danielle like he was drowning, thinking the same thing. He pictured waking back up in the living room upstairs and staring at the ceiling, trying to get through another day without his mind picturing that June day five years before. When he too realized that this was not a dream and that no redheaded woman was blowing him kisses in the darkness, he relaxed. He kissed Danielle's forehead gently, content with just holding her for the time being. She most certainly did not mind either.

"Mae has the children." Danielle finally said. "She's in her glory right now. I'm sure Gil is a little jealous."

Logan grinned. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"How did you make it?"

"Determination. The children. Hope."

"The baby?"

"Oh, Riley? He is Leon's son, but I am not going to have him meet our son. I am content staying here and watching his fall. Michael is better off without Leon too."

Logan seemed surprised. "You don't want to go back?"

"Go back to what?" Danielle's voice was incredulous. "Go back to being the bad wife? Locked away where hardly anyone saw me? Pretending I was something that I wasn't? Being scared when reporters tried to get a word out of me and Peter threw them out? No. I can't go back to that. Neither should you. This is my home. I have two healthy children that need me and my family is here. This is where I'm staying."

Logan should not have been surprised, but he was. The last time he spoke to Danielle, she had just given birth to Michael and he had snuck away to see her. She talked of her husband like she was on his side and that everything he did was right, so young and innocent she had been. Of course, Logan should have chalked it up with Danielle being sympathetic to her abuser and trying to create herself in his image, but he was hurt that her words no longer seemed her own. Now, she seemed stronger and would do anything in her power to finish this once and for all.

In return, Logan kissed Danielle again, this time on the lips. "And I hope this is a long stay."

* * *

 **Lyrics are from the Jame Blunt song, "Carry You Home" from the album _All the Lost Souls_.**


	34. Blossoming

**May 16, 2002**

It had been a difficult balance. For a month now, Danielle had a lot of catching up to do in addition to taking care of her children and keeping Logan satisfied. She was assessed of all of the problems facing the region that the Black Serpents and Canada controlled and sought solutions while feeding the new baby, who she named Riley Logan Ellis (although she'd never admit the latter part of his name yet), and engaging more with Michael. She played with her eldest freely for the first time and did not have someone over her shoulder checking her every word and she was able to take care of Riley without Mary over her shoulder or taking him away. At night, when she thought that her day was over, Logan would crawl under the covers and curl up next to her.

Everyday, it seemed like things were getting better, although the hard times were far from over. The news had been great either way. Danielle saw her husband's government start to crumble more. He had been pushed out of power and was now on the run, massing his army together and attempting to take back his seat. Otherwise, it had been a bloody battle to determine who would succeed him since his only known son – Michael – was no longer in the area and declared missing in action. Military generals and other personnel that controlled Leon Ellis' various departments vied for the position of the ultimate dictator, all of them declaring the former one to be a war criminal and wanted, dead or alive.

One of the contenders was Peter Ellis, of all people and of little surprise to anyone. With a smaller following than that of his cousin, Peter decided to try to control of the capital and failed, his pathetic group limping back to their headquarters further south, even though it had been advertised and not so secret. Afterward, it was said that the place was bombed and with an undetermined amount of casualties, results varying. Danielle never liked to wish ill upon her in-laws, but she hoped that the Ellis family never rose again and would never use her sons as pawns in this game of power.

However, that life seemed so far away. Danielle tried keeping that from her mind as she rediscovered a world she forgot about. She woke up every morning with a new purpose, even if that meant feeding Riley and playing with Michael all day. Sometimes, Roger or Xavier had her on some chores they did not have time for, like taking over some of the classes now that Ororo was out on assignment or even helping Teller hand out money once a week to those who did not have jobs and assisting them getting on their feet, like finding them jobs or delivering food to their homes. After that, she sat back and watched the economy blossom and explode.

Even if the hatred had remained, a lot of people had to concede that they were better off now than they were with Leon Ellis. Grudgingly, they accepted the help from the Black Serpents and others and returned to a life that did not include civil war, although some liked to cause trouble (subdued just as quickly, Danielle noticed). Outside of the borders though, it seemed totally different and like night and day. If one could see what was beyond their lines, they would see death and utter destruction.

Danielle could almost sense life outside of this bubble. From the chaotic slaughtering of anyone in charge to families ratting out the other and even to the mass murdering of mutants in the camps and laboratories, it seemed to Danielle that it was best that she left it all. Despite not having news of her husband, her life had improved and those not within her circle did not concern her anymore. With her sons so close to her, she did not blame herself for being so selfish in a time of crises.

For Danielle though, she had to focus elsewhere. The best part was recovering quickly and Logan. She now had her second chance and she was taking every opportunity she could to take it to the fullest each opportunity they had. It was annoying that she did not see Logan often during the day or had to keep away as he smoked a cigar and worked on something else. However, nighttime had been theirs. After Riley had started sleeping through the night and so easily too (it had maybe been two weeks), the pair had enough time to reacquaint with each other and continue on with their relationship.

Even if she was married, Danielle did not care for its formalities and even heeded Logan's words about consent. She understood that she was technically straying from her marriage vows, both in thought and deed, and that she could face serious consequences if caught. For five years though, she had been faithful and always wished Leon the best, never daring herself to think of Logan or looking back at the last night together for nostalgia's sake. Now that Logan was with her, she had forgotten what it was like to be that loyal and to never think about past relationships.

Danielle threw herself into the lost connection with gusto and started with Logan where they last left off before she and Jay were carted away. Logan seemed hesitant at first, but soon his reservations melted away, even if they came back now and again. They were soon almost inseparable after that if they could help it, but there was always the rare times when they were together and they could not relate to each other.

One beautiful spring day, Danielle found herself without anything to do. She had taken over Hank's science and math classes that morning in exchange for her afternoon study halls and already did her rounds in town that week. Refusing to resist an urge to go outside for the moment, she went to the infirmary to pick up Riley and Michael. From there, she went to the kitchen for something to eat. From there, she carried a blanket and food and other supplies and took the children outside. The mansion still retained its vast property and its lush green fields and thick woods opened up to her with welcoming arms.

Opting to keep away from the woods for now (too many memories, she knew), Danielle found a spot past the basketball court and settled the blanket down. Michael sat on it, eager to escape and climb a tree nearby. Danielle laid Riley down and told Michael he could go, watching him race and crawl a tree in a rapid rate upward. She chuckled with amusement at Michael's childlike antics, picking up the baby and holding him. For now, she was safe. Riley had been sleeping for the past half hour and was fed fifteen minutes beforehand. He would not need to be fed for another few hours at the most.

While Danielle had been busy with her children and snacking, she did not notice that someone was behind her. Logan was also finished with his day's work and was just walking back from Teller's. When Logan saw that Danielle was outside and with the children, he decided to surprise her. Even without using her powers, if Danielle was tried, she could have sensed him through her assassin's skills. He guessed that she was out of practice as Danielle did not notice Logan for several minutes and almost dropped Riley in her surprise.

" _Oh_." Danielle felt embarrassed. Her face was shaded as red as her hair. "Where did you come from?"

Logan did not want to explain where he had been. Honestly, it was a part of his job that he hated. Westchester had started up trouble again and the original people who started a riot the month before had caused another and it escalated pretty fast. He and Roger had gone over to stop it. Before he arrived back in Salem Center though, he had enough blood on his hands and clothes to startle even the most war-worn person. He had changed his and washed himself long before meeting Danielle, but the scent still lingered on his skin and he sought to scrub it away with pure innocence.

Understanding, Danielle nodded. "I won't ask again. I'll assume you went somewhere with Roger and came back. Do you have anything else going on today?"

Logan tried to work words out of his mouth and did not comprehend why he couldn't. Finally, he talked. "Nothing I'm aware of."

"That's good." Danielle tried to remain calm, finally sensing the problem when she probed a little. "Think you can hang around for a while?"

"Sure."

"Listen, Logan, I'm not going –"

"Don't."

It was a good, fair warning. Danielle shut up, instead averting her eyes and aiming them back at Michael. The toddler had not gotten far in his adventure and managed to get to the lowest branches, attempting to reach for the next one up with his short limbs. Danielle waved at him, encouraging him to keep going, and wished with all of her heart that he did not fall. It was a simple hope and one that even Logan picked up on. He got up and went to the tree to avoid her, starting a new game with Michael.

Danielle watched the action for a few hours until Riley started fussing. By then, it was late afternoon and long past time to head inside. She called for Michael and he came running, Logan shortly behind him, and the foursome walked back to the mansion silently. By then, dinner was being served in the old cafeteria and the affair proved to be loud and dramatic with Rogue and Bobby fighting openly. Danielle did not want to socialize with the adults or settle teenaged disputes, especially with Riley so hungry, and led Michael upstairs to her room to calm down. Oddly enough, Logan followed her (after making a run to the kitchen to drop things off), closing the door behind him when they entered their room.

Honestly, Danielle did not expect Logan to come with her. He had been attentive at night and they shared the same space when time allowed it, yes, but he hardly allowed himself the opportunity to get close to the children. Today had been the first time he really bonded with Michael and that seemed to be a good experience for a boy who hardly was loved except for the feelings from his mother.

In the meantime, first thing's first. Danielle settled Michael down and directed him to a corner to play with his toys. Then, she quickly prepared a meal for Riley and stuck the bottle in his mouth, prompting him to hold it himself so that she had a few minutes to herself. She found that Riley loved nothing more than to do things himself and Danielle obliged him constantly, assisting when he did not grumble about it. It would be the only time she could baby him and that alone was comforting.

While sucked into her children, Danielle did not pay much attention to Logan. In the interim, he leaned against the door and crossed his arms, watching the trio in a protective way, his knuckles quivering. Half an hour later, Danielle was finished with Riley and had resituated him in a bouncy seat with toys above his head. She then turned back to Logan, almost expecting him to say something, and found nothing more than a statue. He was not budging and he was not talking.

 _Well, then, I'll have to try a different route._ If Logan was stubborn, Danielle was worse. She could break down walls.

"Can we talk now?" Danielle asked bluntly, creating a mental smokescreen big enough for Michael not to hear. It made her feel weak, but it was better than calling Mae and having her cart the children away and have them out of earshot.

Logan shook his head.

"Look, I can't help you if you don't say something," Danielle insisted. "We can't keep secrets like this from each other. You also just can't come back into my lie and expect to remain far in the background again, protecting me from some incident. You pushed yourself in and, might I add, you were pretty persistent and obsessed. Now, we have the chance we never had before. Take it or leave it."

It was hurtful to utter those words. Danielle felt so guilty in doing so (she even felt the same way about cheating on her husband too), seeing the unmovable face twitch slightly. That was better than nothing. It meant there was a reaction coming if she continued. Danielle made her move and she prayed it to be the best.

"I can sense that something went down," she continued, pressing on to what she knew was the heart of the matter. "You haven't been around here often enough for me to determine your activities. However, it's not pretty and something you don't need to hide from me. I know these things. You need to tell me or we can't move on."

Logan hesitated. He was working in his mind the great debate, whether or not to spill the story or not. He also was worried about Michael, who he knew understood a lot and stored it for later usage. Spending those few hours with the kid made him realize that Michael was a lot smarter than his mother gave him credit for and he loved pretending he was stupid. Logan shook his head once more, trying to find the words to explain to the woman who had seen everything that he was still a monster that she did not want in her life and that war would always follow him, even though they loved each other.

Concluding that peace was not his life dawned on Logan and it was a harsh one too. He felt dumb getting back together with Danielle, even though he missed her with a passion that never died. He wanted to hold her and tell her everything. She had been through so much already and would understand better than most people. She had been an assassin and then a dictator's wife, locked away from the public eye. She had been beaten, abused and nearly killed many times. War would be something Danielle lived with too, but never as much as Logan.

"Westchester," Logan only muttered.

"What about it?" Danielle drew closer until she was in front of Logan, dangerously holding onto his knuckles with her gentle fingers.

"Roger and I…"

"Yes, you were with Roger."

"A lot of thing going on all at once."

Danielle's hands moved up to Logan's forehead, rubbing it gently. "May I?"

It was an easy solution and one that Danielle knew she was out of practice with. When Logan nodded consent, she traveled a little further into his mind (all the way chiding herself for being so rusty) and was soon swimming in his memories of grey mist and shadow. When her vision focused, she saw that Logan and Roger stood in front of a large mass of men, women and children, stonily ordering them forward to the people who had been angry with the Black Serpents. It was an enlarging group that challenged them, but it seemed like a war nonetheless.

Blood rained down and drained down into the street sewers and soaked the grass. Roger and Logan stood back for only a few minutes before someone tried attacking them. It was too easy to get rid of them too, their shallow little lives ebbing away at the edge of their weapons. Danielle as the invisible bystander found herself sick to her stomach seeing this, it was so graphic. She pulled herself out and was soon staring into Logan's cold eyes.

"And my husband?" Danielle whispered, knowing that these people were in league with him.

"Somewhere nearby," Logan replied stiffly.

"Do we know where yet?"

"Not yet."

"But he's getting closer, you think?"

More than you'll ever want to know."

Danielle did not understand what the words meant and did not wish to. However, the thought that Leon was nearby and might take her away again made her frightened. She was on edge, feeling her days of recovery to be temporary and like a teddy bear, and suddenly was cornered. The air around her was taken away, suffocating her in a single wave of its hands. What a fool she was, she knew, to be carefree and without thinking that Leon would try rising again, even if he was a war criminal. He would kidnap her and the children no matter the cost.

"Promise me something, Logan," Danielle said desperately, taking his hands into hers. " _Promise_ me. No matter what happens, tell me that you'll take care of the children. _Please_."

Logan saw that Danielle did not care about herself. When she figured out that Leon Ellis was gathering strength again, it did not take much more for her to think about Michael and Riley and who would take them on. That he could not stand. He lost her once and gained her back along with her two children. Now, she was trying to make him keep his word about ensuring their safety. He was not going to take that. Not this time.

"I promise," Logan answered, hoping to think of something later. "I can do that and more, Danielle. I'll take care of them…and you too."


	35. Fracturing Apart at the Seams

Rumors soon surrounded Salem Center, a lot of them having to do with the armies' conflicts and where their positions are. It was almost as bad as the last world war, Roger thought to himself as he faced another day dealing with the population of the town and their welfare needs. A long line went around the building and then some, but it was still his job to hand out the dough and get on with life. He also had to tell everyone the news they had been aching to hear (all from the Red Cross), mostly about loved ones and what was going on outside their borders.

Roger sighed, beginning the process of calling out the first person, checking them off his list, taking their paperwork as proof of their contribution to the economy and chatting with them as he counted out the money. As he did, flipping through pages of Red Cross paperwork and delivering good or bad news, he thought to the changes the past month had brought. Yes, it seemed like the Canadian government's efforts had paid off and that they were on their way to reconstruction. However, the military still persisted in their own efforts to regain the control they sought when Leon Ellis was in power, thinking that the Black Serpents might be good allies. Regardless, this resulted in a struggle that turned bloodier by the passing day.

People that Roger sent out were also being returned one by one, all of them with their own results. Peter and Scott journeyed back to Canada with nothing better than broken promises, the two of them tired of trying to gain a leader or to get a footing in the area enough to have control. Alex had rounded up as many spies as he could, but even he was running thin on resources and begged for help. Jean, Lorna and Wanda remained behind in their home, but with two children running around, they were scared more than ever before since the momentum for the Black Serpents was now waning.

Back closer to home, people had become more paranoid and their own actions spoke for it louder than their reassurances could. While Xavier had been their beacon of hope and leadership, everyone underneath him suffered from doubt and worry. Roger didn't really know much about Logan, but he saw determination in that man's eyes that spoke of revenge and sacrifice. Danielle was overprotective of her children and told Roger her fears of Ellis coming back to take her away. Hank, always the astute one, pointed out their faults amidst their own shortcomings and pined for Mystique at the same time, the longing worse as the years passed.

The teenagers thought it all an adventure and Roger scorned the so-called romantic concept. The rest of his team, scattered as it was, did not send too many messages. Mystique was still in California and attempting to free any camps and send survivors over the border. Jubilee had escaped Ellis after giving him an electric shock and scurried over to Canada to wait for a new assignment. Ororo had yet to check in, purposely lost in the urban jungles of Los Angeles. Nightcrawler had yet to check in at any times, although he had been sighted by one or more of Roger's agents over the years.

The one missing person was something that bothered Roger as well. It was Jay Mitchell. He was someone Roger was interested in, yet the elder Mitchell sibling was still not able to be found. Roger had scouts checking the area where they had their car accident over a month ago. Other than their own tracks, there was nothing to be found except for an abandoned cave, which turned out to be a mine for precious stones that Ellis used for currency, something that immediately caught Roger's interest. He ordered a thorough investigation in there and a report as soon as was possible.

The results were startling. Upon further examination, it was found out that there were cells carved out of the rock. Inside of them, there were remains of human life. Nothing grim had been discovered (except maybe some dead animals used for food), but the evidence there suggested that Ellis was using people for hard labor and then locking them away at the end of the day. Jay could have been part of it. If so, he was so close that Roger could have tasted him…and pulled him back home.

 _Hard. This is getting too hard._ Roger continued shelling out money to the next people in line, wishing for Chameleon to be with him. _God, I can't believe that he's not here._

Chameleon was a harder person to get a hold of. Honestly, Roger lost track of him months ago, but his mark has been left here and there and things have been done, so the master spy can't complain about taking on the workload that Hank begged him not to. Some political figures assassinated here and there, some administration work done and maybe some people satisfied that their town had been cleaned up. Yes, that had been Chameleon's work. Roger thought it a shame that his children still denied him. Granted, the Vietnam veteran was no saint, but he meant well and looked after his kids from afar.

Besides, Roger hoped that he could get a hold of Chameleon and soon. The last time was too long ago. They had yet to exchange ideas and get on the same page, even if they had going along that dotted line most of the way. Although Roger could see that Chameleon was on track, he needed information from him and he needed it yesterday.

Some hours later, Roger was finished with his job. Stiff and stretching in his chair, he counted what was left over of the money stack and took it back to the bank manager was originally assisted them. Locking it in a safe, Roger left and headed back to the mansion. It was a beautiful spring day and he was glad Mae found his old motorcycle at the house. Putting on a helmet, the master spy made his way back, only stopping for security at the gates before easing his way into the garage.

It seemed a good idea to report to Xavier and to find Mae. Roger relished the latter thought, imagining the rest of his day spent in the company of his wife and in bed. They have yet to replace the time they spent apart (Roger thought it might never happen anyway), but they sure were going to try. Gil was grown up and did not pay much attention to what his parents did. He was more interested in the outside world and what was happening anyway, a spy in the making. Roger was proud of that, pushing the thought aside and driving forward.

Roger parked his vehicle and entered the mansion from the downstairs garage, passing the teenagers on break. They seemed elated to be freed early and without classes the next day too. Little Rogue mentioned something about going to Teller's tonight, but Colossus had to remind her that they had limited hours and not to get too excited. Roger wanted to commend the metallic kid, but decided against it as he passed their stoic faces, innocent of all ideas. He liked it that the three were afraid of him. It meant respect and a little less sneaking around behind his back.

Only nodding at the trio, Roger made his way upstairs and stopped in Xavier's office. The door was open and the Professor not in, but Logan was and he was talking with someone. It wasn't Hank (his blue fur would have given him away), but it was someone familiar and most definitely someone Roger had been thinking about all day.

 _Chameleon._

"Roger," the Vietnam veteran greeted cordially. Logan said nothing, but Chameleon seemed all smiled and very sociable. "How goes the good fight?"

"Tiring," Roger admitted, closing the door behind him. He even rubbed his chest to emphasize the fact that he was ill. "Where's Charles?"

"He's reviewing things outside." Logan did not seem happy about the prospect, almost like he was denied a treat. "What you got? Happy people?"

"I was hoping you'd have more," Roger said, seeing the grim lines on Logan's face. He also did not appreciate the older mutant's sarcasm either. "Things don't seem to be going very well for us."

"Better than we thought, but worse than our dreams," Chameleon confirmed. "Ellis has declared war on everyone and has vowed to get his wife and sons back."

Roger's stomach dropped and then did a three-sixty. "He knows about the new baby?"

"And has decided to rally the troops and claim that the boys have been kidnapped." Chameleon rolled his eyes. "It's a difficult positon Ellis is in. He's on the run, but he's also being hunted by many people, his own cousin included."

"I didn't know Peter Ellis was so generous."

"A stab in the back always hurts the most, especially from family."

"Henry –"

Chameleon waved his hand in dismissal, alarmed for a second that his real name was used. "This means many things, Roger, not the least of which everything we have worked for is crumbling before our very eyes. The country is so divided that civil war even rages between us in the north and in Canada, most of it directed at one another. The governments are hardly holding onto the reins. Nobody is happy that this is dragging on for so long and with the Commonwealth eager to put their hands into it. This might be worldwide and larger than even we expected. You think their political situation is very stable too? You think we're going to just keep it on this continent? Mexico is halfway conquered. What makes you think South American might not jump in?"

Logan continued to say nothing, but his eyes told another story. The dismal picture painted by Chameleon was true and something he did not want to acknowledge. It had been difficult for Canada to support all of them and the years of war had taken their toll. They took on refugees and always handed over money, but their own economy (as well as those around them like the Commonwealth) was falling apart. They all needed some internal restructuring, although they still were committed to finishing the fight until the very end.

It all boiled down to principle and promise. Canada was willing to defend its borders to the end and to aid them, but at what cost? It already was too high and Logan was seeing it already. It might mean the end of their campaigning and the beginning of a new warfare that even he did not want to return to. Although annoyed that Xavier was reviewing their own borders, Logan was glad he did not have to hear this conversation. Indeed, it might be easier to talk about sending the Professor up north too…

"I understand." Roger was quiet. "Time to go underground again, you think?"

"Soon," Chameleon decided. "I think soon."

"What then?"

"That's the power of being underground and nobody's pawn, Roger. You should know this. Nobody needs to know where we are and that we exist."

"Easy for you to say."

"And this coming from our very own master spy? Come now, Roger. I think I sense some jealousy there."

"No, no, just some apprehension is all. What does this mean for the thousands of people who have come to help us? The kids? Anyone really?"

"We'll work out the details later. For now, I think it's time to take it a day at a time. What do you think, Logan?"

Chameleon looked at Logan severely. While the older mutant nodded, he did not expect to be asked into the conversation. He was just checking on things in the office when Chameleon conveniently appeared and started talking about other things. On the other hand, Logan wanted to ensure that Danielle did not see him. After all, she was still furious and frightened of her father all at the same time and he did not want to see her suffer at this point. Chatting with Roger seemed safe, although it would be soon before Danielle came by looking for anyone.

"What? Nothing from the man who isn't afraid to speak his peace?" Chameleon laughed. "How… _quaint_. Well, we can change that. You'll be in charge of getting us all out of here, Logan. Get an escape route and start tagging people and places. I'm sure Scott Summer would love to work with you. He and his brother have been moving people ever since their assignments went up in smoke."

Roger grinned, soon laughing. He was not apologetic either. "Can't help myself with that."

"So, you're annoying us both now?" Logan was not impressed with the pair. "You seem to be missing one thing, bub."

"Oh, what's that?" Chameleon raised an eyebrow, seeing the statement directed at him.

"Storm," Logan replied. "You both seem to have forgotten conveniently that we left her to her own devices out west. Who's going to tell her that we've been planning to move and become invisible?"

"Oh, I've got people on her trail," Roger reassured Logan. "It's a matter of finding her though. You see, Logan, when my men took Storm to California, they did not realize how sneaky she really was. She gave them the slip and they have been tracking her ever since. They concentrated their efforts around the Bay area, where she was last seen distracting a horde of Ellis' odd groups with a thunderstorm to allow some mutants to escape. When the lightning storm ended, she disappeared too."

Logan felt furious, but quelled it. "You _allowed_ her to get away?"

"Hey, it won't be long now." Roger shrugged his shoulders, believing that it would work out in the end. "Once she picks up Kitty Pryde and gets back here, there isn't going to be much left for her to do except wait it out and maybe ask Matthew to get out of his little dreamland there. Because, Logan, once we are sent underground and we direct our thousands of people elsewhere and let them fight it out amongst each other, we can strike on our own. We'd be a smaller team and we can move anywhere we want to."

"First thing's first though," Chameleon declared before the specifics could be hammered out.

"What's that?" Even Roger was curious.

"Move the women and children and the sick," Chameleon said. "My daughter-in-law first. We best get a handle on this now."

~00~

Ororo had spent the better part of the month feeling freer than she ever had been in her life, even before she settled in Salem Center when she was a teenager and very ashamed of her actions. Indeed, she could claim that this was the best time in her life ever since being a prisoner of the Ellis administration, but that seemed to be pushing it too. Her best memories always remained with Matthew and sometimes the others, something that seemed so far away as she attempted to find the teenager named Kitty Pryde.

There wasn't much that Roger was willing to give on the teenager and he did not seem to care. Indeed, he didn't have much since Kitty liked to run away and leave no trace behind her. However, Ororo was up to the challenge. Already, she had evaded Roger's men who came with her and had done some good by helping other mutants escape harm. She even tried accompanying the Black Serpents to a camp liberation raid (and without Roger putting his fingers in the plans), since Kitty was seen in that direction, and she soon had to bail since the teenager had moved again.

 _How difficult is it to find one person?_ Ororo did not know. What she did, as she crouched behind some bushes near what used to be a very dated malt shop, was that she was very close…and she had to be patient.

Ororo saw Kitty enter the abandoned building twenty minutes before. She knew it to be a hideout for some runaways who were processed and then sent out to safety, something that was not used by the Black Serpents. Ororo just did not know whether or not Kitty used it or was working for it. Either way, she was cornered and Ororo was sure this was it.

Although the area was quite deserted, Ororo nonetheless found herself sticking out like a sore thumb and contemplated going inside and improvising an act. She could pretend to be someone who was looking to escape across the border and did not have family to help her. It seemed sound, even if a pang in her heart reminded her that Matthew was still thousands of miles behind her and possibly wondering what happened to her. Pushing that aside, she stood up, deciding that pretending to be lost was the best thing, although she felt that way many times since being captured.

 _All the more reason to go with the feeling._

Ororo waltzed around the building as if she owned the place and entered through the front door without knocking. She soon came upon a large reception room, filled to the brim with people signing papers and parents trying to soothe children. The lone person in charge seemed overwhelmed, cowering behind her desk and timidly taking the paperwork from each person. When she spotted Ororo, she motioned her forward, handing the white-haired mutant a clipboard and telling her that seats were in the next room. Ororo obliged the application, eying the requested information with suspicion.

Once she found a seat behind the receptionist, Ororo pulled the dried-out pen from the top (annoyed that it was attached and taped to the back of the board) and started filling in her information, scribbling a few times in the corner to make it work. She gave a false name, admitted that she was from Egypt (she doubted anyone would check that) and gave no phone number. Cell phones started picking up a few years ago and she was not interested in getting a number, regardless of how important they were in the north.

After twenty minutes of debating, Ororo was satisfied with what she wrote down and returned everything to the receptionist. By then, she was directed to sit back down and wait for someone to help her. By then, night had fallen. The administrator closed and then locked the front door, dimming the lights and shushing everyone as she pulled the curtains together and darkened the area. Ororo noticed the parents trying to hush their children in a more desperate way and rocking them to sleep. Others tried reciting stories from memories to calm the older ones. The elderly tried hunkering down for the night, giving up their places for those who needed it more.

All and all, it seemed relaxing. Ororo was handed a cup of hot chocolate and asked some questions about her health, where she came from and why she escaped. She answered them the way she wrote it down, claiming to be a political prisoner who escaped and currently needed amnesty. That was accepted, prompting them to quiz her on activities for the past fifteen years and what her powers were. Ororo hesitated, racking her mind for an answer. That she did not put down, thinking it unimportant. Now, it was.

"Weather," Ororo finally said. "Before incarceration, I was working against Leon Ellis in various ways."

Thankfully, no other questions were asked. Left alone, Ororo decided that sleep was the best option. Giving up her chair for a mother and her baby, she found a corner nearby and settled down, using her jacket as a blanket and setting her head on the floor. It was comfortable than the most places she slept and extremely peaceful too. It lulled her to a quiet slumber, interrupted hours later by gunshots and the door being slammed open. Ororo was about to get up and see what was happening, but a hand came up from the floor and suddenly pulled her down.

* * *

 **Just figured I'd put a quick note in here before I run off again. HI! Checking in. Although updates have been few and far between these days (blame more than work and school, I swear), I am trying to wind things down. I am still aiming for the usual amount of chapters and have been working diligently when I am not busy at work. If everyone has any issues, questions and comments, please let me know (as usual). I am trying to cram in more time for all of you. Thank you to all who have been reading. It's been a pleasure knowing traffic is still there. :D**


	36. A Grave Mistake

It seemed the best time to leave the mansion for the day. Even though it had been quiet (save for moving people out north by the droves), Danielle found it relaxing to try and see the home she grew up in. Granted, it had been some years since she had been there and the place was hardly maintained, but she needed something familiar to hold onto before departing. Her mother committing suicide the way she did reminded her of where she came from and that alone was comforting.

Besides, Logan was coming with her. He insisted on it, claiming that the town was dangerous enough, even at the outskirts where the property laid, and that she needed protection. Danielle could have laughed had Logan not been serious. After all, she was bringing the children, hoping to let them loose and get them some fresh air, and was more than able to protect them, although she still felt weak and her skills as an assassin were rusty. However, at least Logan would be nearby and able to get them to safety if something happened.

 _If…_

Danielle drove an extra vehicle from the mansion garage to her childhood home, now abandoned and empty of all life. When she parked the car, delaying in unbuckling the children from their car seats, Danielle stared at the place as the memories overwhelmed her, feeling that she wasn't supposed to be here, but needing to find closure. Her earliest years had been spent in happiness before her father left them, lamenting over a pool of blood he alone created. Over the course of time, she had looked back at that day with dread, trying to make footsteps that veered in many different directions and all of them with the pulls of others on her shoulder.

However, all of that was gone and before Danielle stood the true ruins of neglect. From there, the child with a thousand years behind her eyed the flaws. The vinyl siding was coming apart from the top and it appeared as if squirrels had made a home inside of the walls. The shingles on the roof were peeling off and some spots were even bare from the harsh winter winds and moods. Various plants sprouted here and there throughout the place, unable to be weeded and begging to thrive and vine around the house.

This made Danielle think. She tapped the steering wheel with her fingers impatiently, unable to believe that all of those years had come down to this, and tried making an action plan on restoring the place for their return. Resolving to start cleaning it up and relive some good memories at the very least, she exited the car, pocketing the keys and opening up the back to take Riley and Michael out. The former smiled a gummy grin and the latter clamored to be freed, asking all sorts of questions.

Logan followed suit as soon as the children were released, deciding on keeping a distance behind Danielle and the boys as they headed for the door. He glanced around on the way there as well, feeling it a little off and like they were surrounded, and took out a cigar to smoke on the porch. While the old plastic chairs had been destroyed some time ago, he still found the railing sound, perching there as the smoke whirled around him.

Danielle shook her head. "You gonna be out here for a while?" she asked, juggling the keys, diaper bag, bouncy seat and Riley in her arms. It was also the first words she uttered since expressing her wishes to come over before they left the mansion.

Logan exhaled away from Riley and raised an eyebrow. "I figured as much."

"Fine." Danielle had no time for the easiness. "You stay here and check the damage outside. I want to get an idea of what's inside and how the structure is holding up. I think the stairs will be ok and I can work upstairs a little."

"You mind if I clean up a bit out here?"

"If it makes you happy, Logan, go for it. I'll be with the kids inside."

Danielle seemed irritated to Logan. He left their conversation at that, finishing his cigar as she unlocked the door from an old set of keys and entered. From the uncovered window, he saw that she settled Riley on the old dining room table and buckled him into the seat, setting up the ring of playthings above his head. Then, she spread out a blanket on the floor nearby, putting enough toys there for Michael to be entertained with. Certain that she would have no further trouble in the next five minutes or so, Danielle walked around the area, testing the floors and checking the walls. Then, she disappeared upstairs.

Logan chuckled at Danielle's cautiousness. The house itself was sound and sturdy. It just needed a little more work. Some things needed to be replaced and others cleaned (and that seemed silly to do now that it was planned that they would be moving to Canada). Definitely, the place needed to be weeded and mowed. Logan wasn't looking forward to the outside work. He knew that he volunteered himself, but it was going to be a long job and one that would not be concluded until peace was declared. Best to wait out the storm, he figured. Instead, he had to amuse Danielle and come over to check the place out.

Still, something was off. Ever since Logan stepped out of the car, he sensed something was not right and that it was too quiet. He wasn't sure if Danielle felt it too. It was like someone was closing in on them. Indeed, Logan smelled other people around them and then Jay's presence. It could have been because Jay lived here for so long and his scent was all over the place, but Logan doubted it. He was nearby…and inside the house with maybe three others who snuck in before they arrived.

 _It's a trap!_

Throwing what remained of his cigar to the side, Logan sprinted inside, knocking the door off of its hinges and leaving it hanging loosely. He checked on Michael and Riley. While they were content with each other and their toys (Michael even teased Riley and giggled), Logan still felt uneasy, especially leaving them alone. He yelled for Danielle, begging for her to come downstairs, and heard nothing from above except her gentle footsteps. He debated running after her, but there wasn't anybody to watch the kids.

 _Danielle could take care of herself._ Logan was sure of it. Unleashing his claws, he waited.

~00~

It was a little cold upstairs, but Danielle did not mind that. She wanted to see the hallways again, walk through the bedrooms and remember the good times. She first stopped in Jay's bedroom. It was the same as it was before he left, but it was covered in dust, even the Army cot he always slept on emitting particle through the window's sunshine. Smiling, Danielle moved in, skipping the guest bedrooms and her mother's as well, thinking it too raw to think up people who are long gone.

Instead, passing the bulging bookcases full of old books and the pictures that showed families members dead or not present anymore, Danielle stopped at the end of the hallway, her bedroom. The door had been closed shut and was difficult to open. Finally, it creaked open when she tried to the cold knob a few more times and kicked the bottom. Inside, the curtains had been drawn, almost in the same manner she left them all that time ago. Feeling this darkness too overwhelming, Danielle opened the room to some light.

Dust flew in the light and planted itself on the intruder's body. Danielle blew it out of her face, looking around at the inner sanctum of her younger years. Nothing much had changed except age. The bed had been covered with a sheet to avoid it dirtying. The closet held all of the shoes and clothes she used as a teenager. Even the odd knickknacks held some nostalgia for Danielle, the fantasy creatures and award plaques of long ago holding memories, both good and bad.

Danielle was sucked into the past that she almost did not hear Logan yelling for her downstairs and some feet shuffling around the house. Logan sounded frantic and frightened, something that alarmed her into action. She turned for the door, but suddenly felt a pull from an old and acquainted force, locking her into place. When she found the source of it, she gasped. It was Jay.

 _Jesus Christ!_

Jay, who Danielle had not seen since their mother's funeral some years before, appeared a lot older than thirty-three years old. He was pale, wretched in clothes too big on him, and was a scarecrow in every way. He had lost most of the reddish-brown hair of his youth (he was practically bald for God's sake!) and his eyes were sunken and lifeless, devoid of the red and black he and Danielle showed at every opportunity. He soon was on his knees too, his hands folded in a prayer-like stance, ankle chains rattling beneath him.

"Please, Ghost," Jay begged, using a name that Danielle hardly did in the past. " _Please_ get out of here. Forget me. Just get them all out of here."

Danielle did not need to be told twice, not even lingering to ask how Jay was doing. Dashing for the door, she ran as fast as she could down the hallway and to the stairs. Before she even took a step down though, someone grabbed her from behind, almost out of nowhere and maybe from Jay's old bedroom. She fought back, pulling out the knives she had been carrying with her since arriving back in Salem Center. She managed to slice an arm and heard some swearing before struggling free. By then, she used the railing and snaked down in a slide, rushing to Logan and her children.

By the time Danielle reached the bottom and was in the dining room, she stopped in front of a barrel of a gun. She followed the metal object to the owner, seeing her husband in a rage. In one hand, he held the weapon close to her head. In the other, he had Riley, who was crying hysterically. Logan was no longer in sight.

Danielle noted that Leon was not pleased and was worse off than the last time she saw him. However he was dying on the inside. Indeed, even in his sixties, he seemed older than the start of his glorious reign some years before. His clothes were just as dirty and ragged as Jay's, but better-fitted. He was well traveled, especially after his campaign in Mexico, and that wore him down. It must have taken him a lot to find them, Danielle mused, and he had spent miles and men to get there. That alone was a very frightening thought.

"Leon, we can work this out," Danielle began, working out a plan in her mind to escape. She first needed to get the children out and then find Logan, wherever he was. "Give me the children."

"To you?" Ellis laughed, the gun shaking slightly in his hand. " _You_ , a mutant who has done nothing more than betray me? Lie to me and pretend to be the perfect wife? I don't think so. Say your prayers, Danielle. This time, you'll never see the light of day again and neither will your lover or your sons. It'll be the day of your death you'll behold the last goodness God gave us. Let's just hope you get forgiveness then."

By then, Danielle knew she had to act. Using the same speed and agility as before, she pulled out a knife and aimed it at Ellis' arm to push the gun out of her way and maybe have it skid a few feet away from them, all in order to get some time. She succeeded, causing Ellis to drop the weapon and Riley and curse her to hell. Danielle caught her baby before he hit the floor and swung over to liberate Michael, using her one free hand to punch the additional captor in the face, tripping him. She quickly disabled him and grabbed her oldest and was soon running for the door, taking a large chance by leaving herself so open. She had hardly reached her destination when she felt a sharp sting at her right side.

 _I've been hit!_

Behind her, Leon Ellis stood, his gun smoking from the sudden usage. He shot again, missing his children and hitting their mother in the arm instead. By then, Danielle collapsed, using her body to cover her children from any further assault. Ellis moved closer, hoping to finish the job, and did not look up in time to see Logan jump and then sprint through the door and tackle him to the floor.

Logan regretted not coming back in time, fighting his way through a series of men around the house before reaching Danielle and her kids when they had been ambushed and Ellis arrived with his supporters. As he rolled around the kitchen with Ellis, laboring to grab the gun before the deposed dictator tried using it again, he kept his eye on the three he needed to get out and almost lost. With so much guilt built up in Logan, he struggled more, trying to get more hits on Ellis and missing since the man had combat training. Logan had had to quell it, concentrating his frustrations on the man who made this miserable mess. There would be enough time to get Danielle some help before long.

Using his full weight, Logan finally managed to get back on top and still Ellis with his knee. The gun had slithered across the floor, just out of reach of the two. Ellis tried making a grab for it, but squirmed enough to be just inches away. Logan wanted to laugh triumphantly. Slowly, he pushed it more out of the way with his spare foot, just about to punch Ellis in the face when he too was shot from behind. This was no ordinary bullet though and one that even made the mutant stagger.

Continuously, a series of shots rang out, all of them hitting Logan in the back and paralyzing him. Groaning, he dropped as quickly as he came in, unsure of why he could not get back up. He was soon staring up at the yellowed, moldy ceiling, not knowing where he was or why and struggling to find the answer. He had the day's events in his mind a few times, from the morning at the mansion to now, but it was fleeting. Shaking his head a few times cleared it, although it left him feeling like he was many, many years ago when events cascaded and surrounded him with choices that led to death.

It was the most horrifying thing that Logan could turn back to. He was slowly transforming back into a mindless animal.

Peter Ellis came within Logan's sight, his own hands smoking with something. Logan could not tell what it was then. All he could feel was that the Ellis cousin was kicking him fiercely, laughing as he did, even if the wounds healed quickly. Logan could not focus still, trying to figure out what happened…why they had been so stupid…how Danielle could have not put aside her feelings and run away when they could.

In an abrupt burst, Logan found his strength and lunged up again, but Peter had him on the floor once more, closer to Danielle though and Logan not seeing how and why. Ignoring the Ellis cousins behind him, scheming already how to handle the situation, Logan crawled towards Danielle, tired of the attacks. He managed to reach her right side, feeling the pool of blood underneath his body and hoping the two kids were alive. He turned her face towards his, noting the red hair dipped in a color more fine than it already was and the pale body slipping towards death.

Underneath her, Michael and Riley breathed, the both of them whimpering in fear, especially the baby. Logan did not want them to see this last scene as their final memory of their mother (Michael especially), but they had to choice now and all thanks to their father. He raised Danielle's face to his and kissed it, her cold lips hardly returning the favor. He tried again just as Ellis and his cousin shot him again, this time in the neck. Danielle kissed him back gently this time, opening her hazel eyes that turned red and then onyx black.

"I love you, Logan," Danielle whispered, a rattle caught in her lips. "Don't you ever forget that."

Logan was about to mouth back the words that Danielle wanted to hear. He said them a few times to her since they had been together and it didn't seem too hard to comply. When he tried though, he could not get the words out. All he felt was a tap to the back of his head…and then nothing more.

* * *

 **Surprise for all of you! Another note and another chapter in the same night. I hope you all enjoy it. This section of the past and the future will be featured soon. By then, we'll move towards the end of the conclusion of this series (unless I have something else in mind) and a new beginning. This girl also saw the new trailers and caught up, so I'll leave speculation to everyone. Who else loves the last that features...GASPS!...Logan?!**


	37. Journey to the Unknown

It was soon dark. Xavier had been trying to contact Danielle and Logan and had been met with nothing since dinner was served. He sat in his dimmed office, trying to think of why the two were delayed. There had been reports of rogue forces coming in and out of Black Serpent territory and fights had been recounted back to the mansion. Xavier was only glad that most of the facility had been cleared out and that he, Hank and Roger remained. Everyone else, save for Ororo (who was expected back soon, according to Bobby and Colossus), had been shipped behind the Canadian lines and situated on their main safe house in Nova Scotia.

Hank gingerly entered, Roger stomping in loudly behind him, the opposite in every way. They saw Xavier appearing so distressed that they did not venture to say anything, although they knew that he sensed their presence behind the wheelchair. Roger wanted to say how sorry he was that he didn't put in a full effort to keep the two out of trouble (for it was obvious that Danielle and Logan had run into that), but Hank shushed him with a finger to his lips. Roger resented the parental gesture, inching forward to see if he could have the final word in.

 _Dammit, Logan. What the hell trouble did you get into this time and all for a woman you haven't seen in years? Did you know we needed to leave for Canada soon, you fucking fool?_

Xavier turned around instead, smiling weakly when he saw his friends. "What news?" he asked, acting like all was well and that two people plus two children (and one a month old) were not missing.

Roger saw this as his chance, even though Hank was eying him with contempt and wanted to warn him against being an asshole. "Ellis and his men snuck in," Roger reported, feeling ashamed that a large party could have gone through their lines. "We didn't know until this morning, after Danielle and Logan left with the kids. By the time we were able to trail them and try to find their intentions, they had disappeared from their last destination."

Xavier dreaded the answer of where Ellis could have gone. He _knew_. There was no doubt about where Ellis decided to go. He did not blame Roger in the slightest. Ellis' exact location and how he was faring had been a mystery since he disappeared over a month ago. Even the master spy could not locate him, something that frustrated Roger more than anything else. Xavier could have used Cerebro, but with electric power so limited in the town and his own powers weakening him at times, he didn't dare. Hank had no other options to power it up and that alone was costing them time and people.

 _A lot of things made us fail, even if we thought we could win. It was never a competition and we never meant to make enemies. However, even now, we have caused something worse than Ellis had. Opposition was never our focus, although Roger liked to make it that way. What to do, what to do?_

Hank was nervous as he dared to take a turn. "We could have done more," he offered to Xavier. "I'm for Roger's unorthodox methods, but we still could have found something for –"

Xavier put a hand up to silence Hank. "It's not anyone's fault, Hank. We have to deal with the cards we have and place them down to show when we're ready."

Roger never heard Xavier so resigned before and using a metaphor so cliché too, showing that their captain was about to give up permanently. "Charles, we need to move out now, dawn at the latest. If Ellis is in Salem Center, we might be next. I don't want to be a prisoner and a prized one, if you know what I mean."

"With so many people vying for power, we might not need to worry," Hank pointed out, even though he knew it wasn't true. His voice even quivered with the revelation.

"I think we will. Our names are well known. We all are also named as opponents of the regime that took over some years ago. Before that, we were branded as one of the most dangerous mutants around. We're not going to be forgotten, Hank."

"Since we're also named as dangerous, I assume you're right. When are we leaving?"

"Soon. I want to see if Storm has been found."

"I think she's arrive shortly," Xavier revealed, smiling.

Roger looked at Xavier incredulously, shaking his head. "If my best men can't locate her and she has been three steps ahead of them, what makes you privy to her whereabouts?"

"Simple trust and a little faith," Xavier replied, looking up past the pair to the doorway. "Ahh, Storm. Welcome home."

Hank and Roger turned around and saw Ororo with a teenager they assumed to be the one they had been searching for. Kitty Pryde came into the office, a hand on her shoulder for reassurance. She studied the group before us like they were enemies and that she had to find a way to escape. However, when Xavier smiled at Kitty, she relaxed. Having Ororo nearby was a plus too, planting her feet into place when all she wanted to do was run. Roger saw that Kitty trusted Ororo and that she did something with the teenager that merited it.

 _Damn her too! We'll see how this girl works though. She'll probably be as underfoot as the others and try her hand at getting to McDonald's as well._

"What's going on?" Ororo seemed confused, hardly amused at Roger's obvious animosity. "Where's everybody?"

"Packed up," Roger answered, feeling the only person heartless enough to tell the truth and s bluntly too. "Lines are being broken and territory is overrun by everyone and anyone. We're all leaving."

"Everyone?" Ororo's voice was small and childlike, scared even after a chase from the west coast to the east.

"Everyone," Roger conformed. "Keep your bags by the door. I've got a van running and taking all of us before the sun comes up."

"And Logan?"

"Not here."

Ororo was startled, her eyes widened like she had been stabbed. "Why? Where is he?"

The question startled Roger for some reason. He regained his composure and swallowed the lump he suddenly realized was in his throat. "You probably heard that Danielle, Mae and the children had been picked up the month before. Earlier today, Mae went off to Canada and Danielle wanted to check out the farmhouse. She took her children and Logan."

Kitty seemed a little less shocked than the others, deciding to chime in through her embarrassment. "Ellis has been spotted around here," she decided to input. "Some of the Black Serpents have been following him for weeks and decided not to say anything. They wanted the bounty themselves."

"I know." Roger was irritated that Kitty knew so much for a girl on the run. "I know."

"What now?" Ororo's foot was already out of the office, ready to sprint at any time.

"Mae is going to kill me, but I can check things out," Roger announced, looking to the remainder of the group. "Go ahead and don't wait for me. I can hitchhike a ride with someone else."

"You don't know what you're going to find there," Hank said to Roger, feeling a pit in his stomach. The blue mutant was very much afraid that the small family had been ambushed and had to warn Roger.

"But I am one man," Roger pressed vigorously. "One man that can hide in the shadows, might I add, Hank. I've spent most of my life there. What's one more night? It's not like I was born yesterday and would miss someone."

Xavier had to consider the options before nodding consent at Roger. "Go. I think we can depart in an hour. Meet us in Nova Scotia. I'll remain open for your word or any news."

Roger grinned. "You can count on me, Charles."

"I always did, even when you were in prison." Xavier wheeled himself to the doorway, facing Kitty. "Now, we have some introductions to make. It would be rude on this trip not to otherwise."

~00~

Roger made his way under the cover of darkness into Salem Center, taking a few side roads he remembered from years past to get to the Mitchell farmhouse on the other side of town. He had not bothered to check on the place in the years since the family had left and considered it foolish otherwise, but he was a kind man. He did not like Danielle and Logan heading there in the first place and said nothing about it at breakfast that morning, allowing them their adventure. Now, their worst fears were probably coming true. With Ellis on the run, anything was possible, including their worst nightmares.

On the way, Roger unlocked the home he and Mae had shared for a short period of time and entered carefully. He purchased the place in the woods years before, using it as a home away from home, and brought his new family in when he married Mae. Now, it was as empty as the Mitchells' and just as cold without a fire going. Roger only needed a few supplies anyway, one of them being a quick drink. He always kept a bottle in the false bottom of his study desk and occasionally took a swig out of it.

After grabbing some camo gear and a few weapons and packing some food in a knapsack, Roger made his way to his study down the hallway, using a knife to unlock the knob. He dropped the bag to the dusty floor and found his chair, swiveling it forward to face the opposite room. With the same knife, he unjammed a drawer and the bottom, taking out a glass and Wild Turkey, an old friend of Chameleon's and leftover from the initial push against Ellis. Roger poured himself a generous amount and gulped it, feeling it burn all the way down.

Mae made Roger promise not to drink as often as he used to, attempting to make him quit, especially when the couple gave up cigarettes for good. However, in this case, the master spy found it necessary, a secret his wife did not need to know. Since 1997, he had been stuck without the alcohol and felt pretty dry. Indeed, he also felt he needed some courage for the mission ahead, even if he had an idea of what he was finding.

 _Being brave? How? This should be an easy mission, in and out. No tears or fuss._ Roger could not figure it out. He just had to find out how bad it was and ignore the nagging feeling inside…

After three glasses, Roger had enough of the numbing feeling. He replaced the materials back into the desk and stood up, ignoring the wonderful rush to his head. He picked up his equipment and locked behind him, walking the rest of the day to the farmhouse. It was twenty minutes max and a nice one too and only if Roger wanted to count running into a family of deer good. Regardless, he reached his destination soon enough and was watching from the bushes by the driveway for any activity.

There seemed to be nothing happening. The wind whistled behind Roger's head, indicating that zilch had changed and that there were no unusual patterns. No vehicles were parked, no new tracks and no watch animals sniffing the air. Roger took a chance, thinking that there was nobody left to shoot, and peeked out from his hiding spot.

 _Still nothing._

The driveway offered no new clues except for some old car tire marks made maybe hours before. Roger studied them for a second, seeing that they were not recent and not made by the vehicle Danielle borrowed, and followed them on the grassy pathway beside it. It was a truck, all right, and a pretty large one at that. Roger noted that it was originally parked behind the garage, hidden from view. When he checked to see how anyone could have missed it, Roger saw that the vehicle had initially come from the back property. The large grass on the trail might have been disturbed, but the yard was not.

 _Someone had covered themselves pretty well._

The master spy then walked around the eerie house to check the outside without looking at the house itself. Again, not much was evident other than some blood and that was led from the house and a few heavy puddles dotted here and there, most of them caused by a certain person with adamantium claws. The last thing Roger stored for reference later was a message on the garage door. It was spray painted quite crudely and proved that some people never received an actual education. Roger only had to shake his head at the misspelling, although the message was quite clear and rude too.

 _LEON ELLIS WIL RIS AGEN!_

It meant that Ellis or his followers were previously here and left their mark. Roger's heart sank, but he had to push himself onward and forget that friends were now in obvious trouble. He forced himself to the porch, where he noticed more of a struggle (maybe several). The door had been pulled open and hanging off of its hinges forlornly, forgotten in the fight. All of the windows within sight had been punches and shattered, the glass leaving jagged edges in its sad, reflective circles. Appliances inside the first room, the kitchen, had been overturned, and other items broken and chopped to pieces by an axe thrown haphazardly in a corner by the stairs leading to the second floor.

Roger carefully walked into the house, using his best skills to ensure his own safety. Pulling out his gun and leaving a knife within easy reach, he first checked out the kitchen and saw nobody. The mud room, which was just off of it (and led to the garage) yielded nothing more than the usual – broken furniture and the new smell of gasoline, an abandoned gas can nearby. Roger then turned to the dining room and living room and saw the same thing. It was when he moved back into the kitchen that he noticed a figure laying almost unconscious near the downstairs half bathroom.

 _Logan._

There was no doubt about it. It was the older mutant. He groaned, which was unusual to Roger. Mesmerized by the thought of survivors, the master spy drew closer, inching slowly so that he did not get sliced to pieces. He did not dare touch Logan, fearing that in his state he might not know where he was, and only watched as Logan tried to regain consciousness.

For now, that as the name of the game. It was time to wait.

~00~

Pain.

Suffering.

Anguish.

Rage.

Revenge.

 _Death._

He could not tell which feeling was more dominant and which he could just brush away. Indeed, all of them seemed to overwhelm him in a way that demanded a memory be presented. However, when he tried to think back to what happened, he drew a blank. He did not know who he was, where he was or what happened that got him on the floor in some old and smelly house. He could only open his eyes to the darkness of night.

As soon as he did, a wealth of senses surrounded him, enough to tell him that he was in a dangerous place. Primal instinct kicked in, immediately prompting the man to stand up quickly and check the area wordlessly, walking the space before the doors like a pacing animal would. There was nothing except an older person standing there and he had stepped backwards and was in apparent terror, afraid of what he found.

The man who remembered nothing stared at his opponent, ready to pounce when it was necessary, but seeing that no harm was meant made him stop and think. He allowed something cold and metallic to slip through his knuckles, realizing that he himself was a sort of weapon, and waited patiently. The other person would soon act and would show his true colors.

And the unknown person did. The fear stopped abruptly steps away, staring at him for a few seconds before moving forward again, appearing more frightened. When he came to the man of no life, he touched the sharp items gently, which made them slip back into his arms with ease, almost like it was known it would happen. He stared again, which made the man jump back again, wanting to strike without reason and opting not to. This one was familiar though, but in what way, the man could not place.

"Logan," the other person began, "we need to go."

"Go? Go where?" The man found his words after a lifetime without, amazed that he recalled those at least. "Who are you?"

The person shook his head sadly now. "Logan, we need to go. They're going to kill us here."

The man felt angry and frustrated at his lack of memories, lifting the other person in the air by the front shirt collar. "Who are you? Where did you come from? Where are we?"

The other person started coughing, sounding like he was choking. "Logan…Logan, put me down. Put…me…down…"

There seemed to be no choice since the request seemed fair. The man put him down, unsure of how to proceed next. There was no threat or immediate danger. So, what then? Would this person be able to answer some questions? Would he take him back to where he needed to be? What kind of life was there before this uncertainty, when all the man could feel was an ire that he could not describe?

"Logan, don't you remember me? The spy who annoyed you for many years and vice versa?" the other peered once more, this time with sympathy. "It's Roger. Roger Mortimer. Come on. We need to head back. You're going home to Canada."

"No." The man seemed adamant about it, unsure of why home was someplace called Canada. "Not until I know…know what happened."

"There's time for that later, but not now," the person named Roger urged. "Look, Logan, you're gonna have to trust me. You don't have much of a choice. Come with me or they'll find a way to make you die this time."

The man was skeptical, hearing of an enemy he did not see. He was about to turn away, but his foot knocked into something that clanked against his boots. When he looked down, he saw a necklace of some sort, tangled with military dog tags. He picked them up, studying them closely. The necklace was bloodied, but it was obvious that it belonged to a mother. There were two tokens, a sun and moon pendent, with names of her children on them and the year they were born perhaps. The dates of March 12, 1969 on the sun and June 4, 1979 on the moon were easily seen.

The dog tags seemed more of a mystery. It had a serial number on it and a name and an animal, possibly his own (it made some sense). The man could not tell. All he could was that Roger was holding out his hand in friendship, trying in every way to get him to leave this horrible place. His gut told him to trust it because there seemed to be no reason not to. Even so, if there was trouble, the man knew how to get out of it, no questions asked.

Roger smiled when the man took his hand, although he had to cringe about the bloody items wedged between his fingers. The two then walked outside together into the spring night without another word, onto a new adventure that would bring more questions than answers. Their hands parted and the beginning of a new journey started.


	38. Pretending to be Normal

**June 5, 2023**

The weekend finally came and with it, sunshine and life back to normal. By Friday, when classes had been in session just for the day and the weekend seemed too close and the students bored with being back to work, Logan's mind wandered all over the place. While he felt his class to be a success for the day, since he was working with history prior to 1973, he still felt out of place and thought every eye in the room noticed. What bothered him the most was what he saw earlier and what was slowly leading to his courtship with Danielle in this lifetime.

It seemed too easy to think back on that time and believe that what they were doing was good. It really wasn't, the way they treated Ellis as an enemy to be defeated and being in charge of a region that required more attention than most. Logan could pinpoint all of their mistakes already in retrospect, planning out what they did wrong and what other pathways they could have taken. However, there was nothing he could do unless he wanted to undergo another travel to the past to change something. Once was enough, he mused. He did not want to repeat the experience.

Finally, as the clock struck the hour of release, the students rushed out of their desks, dropping off their devices with their essays and activities logs with Logan. He stared at them for a few minutes, realizing that he had so much to do over the weekend if the other kids were coming home, and sighed. He got up, placing all of his students' work and answers in a canvas bag and walking out. He went downstairs and hooked the few turns required to get to the music room, where Danielle had her last lesson.

Logan leaned into the doorway, watching Danielle. He was sure she knew that he was there, but chose not to say anything regardless, hoping for the element of surprise. It was just fun to watch her quickly grade her work and input the score into her own apparatus. Logan even saw a smirk run across her face. He had to copy it too, thinking back to the Danielle he used to know and love. One and the same person through time and space, but nonetheless so different, beautiful and poisonous, all at once.

Yet (and all at once too), the Danielle that Logan knew was so similar to this one, but was so different too. The experiences of that past endeared the two to each other and their mutual goals had made them a team bent on sacrifice, including their own lives on the run. _Now_? They had been friends first and then lovers and then married sometime after that. It was extremely odd for him, especially since he had been noncommittal for several years and never actively looked for a woman.

 _Except for Jean._ Logan had tried his hardest to break with Jean, but that had been cut short when he met Danielle, all that time ago. It seemed like it was a mutual attraction at the first meeting and one that proved to be fatal as well, which led him to the choices made at the Chinese monastery.

All and all, it was a positive experience, even if there had been negative consequences that they had yet to figure out. Indeed, it just seemed like Logan and Danielle danced around each other since his arrival and that they worked as a team, even going as far as going on with the relationship like they normally do. Falling back in love? Being the same couple as before? That was a totally different story and one that Logan realized was unfolding for the both of them. It seemed optimistic, although the results had nonetheless could not visibly be seen.

After ten minutes of this, Danielle looked up from her work and directed her gaze a Logan. "Ready to head home?" she asked him.

"We _are_ home," Logan replied, crossing his arms. The bag swung behind his back.

Danielle laughed, shakily getting up from her chair and gathering her things. "No, silly. We are heading home, to our house. Fiona and Jax are coming with us just for tonight and heading back after dinner."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you forget that Michael and Riley were in town? They just called this afternoon after the roads cleared. They'll be here in a few hours."

In all of this time entranced with the storytelling, the storm that took down the power and catching up to the new future, Logan did forget. "I did. When are we leaving?"

"Soon." Danielle sighed. "I'm going to warn you though. The place is different."

"What do you mean by different?"

"It was rebuilt fifteen, sixteen years ago. It had to be."

"Why?"

Danielle's lips twisted in a weird grimace, recalling something terrible most likely. "You'll find out later. Now, Michael is bringing his boyfriend. Riley mentioned his flavor of the week was coming too. Devon has yet to call, so I'm hoping he'll be here soon and not lose track of time. It's going to be a full house."

"You open the place up when you're not here?"

"Yes, we do. During the school year, we're usually here. Every so often, one of us heads back there to check piping, house structure…things like that. It's there to get away and to think. We've also had animals settle in every once in a while or had a hunter on the property. Sometimes, we just need to clear it out."

"Like now?"

"Like now," Danielle confirmed, smiling. "Come on. We'll grab the kids and take our car and head out."

That was easier said than done. Danielle and Logan headed back upstairs to corral Celeste and Daken, who had taken two diverse directions and stayed well hidden. They soon found the latter and not the former. Once Celeste was found, Daken had up and disappeared. It took an hour to find him again. They then locked the two siblings in their bedroom and told them to pack enough for the weekend, tossing their bags and clothes in just so that they did not run off again. Logan kept guard at the door, even growling at Celeste if she tried to escape.

That merited a few pouts from his daughter and a little persuading about skipping this dinner with Michael and Riley. Daken was a little miffed that he could not just run off into the woods and even muttered so to himself. At that point, Logan did not care and only wanted out. Spending so much of his time and energy locating two young teenagers was a waste. His patience was another thing that was fried and on a shorter fuse than most days.

Finally, at about five o'clock, they were off. Danielle and Logan stuffed themselves and the kids into one vehicle while Fiona and Jax followed in the next. Twenty minutes later, they reached the farmhouse and parked in the same dirt driveway that had been there the whole time. Logan got out of the car and studied the great building for a minute. It was much altered, larger actually. It was done in a way that several families could fit in, almost like an old fashioned place from several decades ago (if one was affluent enough), and it retained the quaint charm it always had.

Danielle nudged Logan in the shoulders, excitement radiating from her. "What do you think?" she whispered as Celeste and Daken walked past them in a shuffle, complaining all the way about carrying the bags inside.

"Home sweet home," Logan replied loudly, deciding to follow the kids. He grabbed some of their luggage too and walked inside, almost dropping what he was carrying in surprise.

Again, the kitchen had been the first thing one saw when entering the house. However, it was redone completely. Gone were the old seventies-style counters, walls and appliances. It was more modern and much more durable than what Shannon Mitchell had installed years before. Everything was granite top, even the island in the center with the wooden stools. Above that were pots and pans. To the far wall on the left, there was a bar. Going clockwise, there was the stairwell (with multiple directions to the next floor from what Logan could see), refrigerator and stove, side counters with sink and open windows and wine cabinet.

When Logan walked around, pretending to know where things were as he tried to avoid the human traffic, he saw that more things had changed. The dining room had expanded and had an adjustable table and several chairs, the living room was more open and seemed to be more inviting and there was a full bath downstairs compared to the half from before. He was amazed, but was soon knocked out of his reverie by Fiona. She accidentally stepped on Logan's foot, apologizing profusely, but without the eye contact.

"Don't worry about it," Logan reassured Fiona, but that seemed lost on her. She went on her way upstairs, very distracted.

Jax soon stopped next to Logan, picking up some things absentmindedly before moving on. Now, Logan had not really seen Jax much. At the meetings and around the mansion, he had been evasive, hiding the shadows when he could and not showing his face except in his classes. He was an enigma, a mystery, and nobody knew much about him except that he had been taken as a baby and obviously returned to his family and taken in as a teacher for the school. Jax offered no personal information about himself anyway.

Logan was curious. While Jax was in the living room, he stopped the young man. "Hear anything about your dad yet?" Logan asked politely, feeling embarrassed for even doing so.

Jax's eyes flashed at the interaction, flickering the same hazel that Jay and Danielle had. It wasn't anger really, just irritation. It wasn't about Logan, but about the situation and the mention of it. Too many people inquiring about family business, Logan concluded. It wasn't like the school was immune from gossip. It thrived on it since the school was isolated because of who and what they were. Jay being in a coma and various teachers covering his classes? That was worthy news.

"No changes," Jax finally admitted, but the tone was stiff and formal. Nothing more. "Jean will have more news tomorrow."

Logan wanted to say a million things to the young man, one of them being how sorry he was to have dropped in unexpectedly. He wanted to admit everything, from beginning to end. He had volunteered himself to change the past in order to save the future and instead came into a world with no memories of 1973 and onward, a personality that did not fit in and two worlds that seems to be colliding with each other, causing everything to conflict. It was all his fault, Logan wanted to lament in a scream. It was all his fault.

Jax did not give him the chance to confess though. He continued cleaning and soon followed his mother upstairs. This left Logan with nothing to do and feeling quite awkward that he was standing in a foreign area without a clue.

Danielle soon joined Logan once she saw the children settled in their rooms. "You have yet to see the upstairs," she said cheerfully when she knew that nobody was listening, sensing that he was down. "We have it split. Our side is above the living room and dining room. Fiona, Jay and Jax are on the other side, above the garage and mud room. We have guest bedrooms on all sides."

"That's nice," Logan answered slowly.

"I'd hope we wouldn't hear some noise tonight. That's what I hate about this place. Noises can be heard by anyone and everyone."

"Well, we can always make our own."

" _Logan_! Don't you think the kids have heard enough already?"

Logan did not answer. Danielle though it quite in character for him to think about them as a couple, but his tone sounded dull and pretty depressed. Sighing, she guided him upstairs to their section, taking the left on the stairwell and practically dragging him to their room at the end of the hallway, about the exact spot where she used to have her childhood room. When sitting Logan on their large bed though, Danielle had to evaluate the situation. All sorts of feelings jumbled in Logan's mind. Initially, it was wonder. This was totally new to him. However, there was an undertone of guilt there too.

And that was a problem. Danielle sat down next to Logan and held his hand. He showed her a lot of things all at once in a distracted sort of way, one of them being the farmhouse from the past. Before it was torched by some rogue agents of Leon Ellis some sixteen or so years ago, it was the same place Logan had always known. However, in his other life, as Danielle knew now, he had to leave it behind because it was a target and a place of horrible events. By the time that happened, they had no choice and they never turned back. After departing, they never saw the farmhouse again except in memory.

Nostalgia tugged at Logan, which was also novel. He never felt much sentiment towards homes and people since he always traveled. Ever since gaining a family and friends, he started caring. This time around, he thought it was his fault concerning Jay, even though it was not his choice that his consciousness landed in this time and era. Danielle tried smiling and cheering Logan up, but even she felt overwhelmed by this feeling. She had to do something to fix this.

To dispel the mood, Danielle got up and switched on the radio. Granted, she could not remember what station she last left it at (it had been months since she was here), but seemed satisfied that it was playing something slow and without lyrics. It was also heavy brass and called to a past that was no longer the norm, a time long by that would remain in books and pictures alone. It was appealing and held some romance, even sounding hopeful that things would be ok.

Danielle could not help herself. She pulled Logan up from the bed (and that was no easy feat) and planted his hands around her and she wrapped her arms around him. Normally, he would lead their steps, but this time, she had to, pretending that they were out in town and having a good time without the kids. She had to get something out of Logan this time, she just had to!

"Hey, stranger," Danielle started. "Seems like this town ain't big enough for the two of us moping."

Logan continued to say nothing. He went along with Danielle though, something she appreciate. It was the beginning of breaking through the ice. That was all she asked for. Indeed, it was all she could hope for.

"Both of us can't be miserable," Danielle continued. "I feel just as bad as you are. I mean, I didn't have to tell Jay anything. I could have kept a secret and made myself sicker. He asked me and I felt…you know. I would certainly hope you remember what I told you. We can figure it out though. Don't worry about Jax and Fiona. They came last minute anyway. They just wanted to see Michael and Riley and leave after dinner. I don't think being away from Jay is a good idea for them."

Danielle thought she saw a shadow of a smile from Logan. "And then what?" he inquired, trying to hide his feelings from her.

"Nice try," Danielle said, giggling as Logan took the lead now and dipped her. The blood rushed to her head before he pulled her back up. "Now, we're going to have a nice dinner. We're not going to say a word against Michael and hurt his feelings. We're definitely not going to give Riley's girlfriend a hard time. We're going to pretend that things are ok. If Michael asks about you and Jay, and I know he will, I won't say anything unless you allow me to. I can always tell him that there are things going on and they are being worked on. Jay can be excused as sick."

Logan avoided Danielle's glance for a minute before facing her again. He saw that she was trying to be fair and that he appreciated, especially since she did not want their circle to be larger than it already is. However, she had a point about having less people in the know, including her eldest son. Something that did not seem to change was Michael's independence and his ability to see a situation and wrestle the truth out. He was perceptive, mature and even persuasive. He also was a pain, but Logan wasn't going to mention that.

"Tell him if it's necessary," Logan clarified, going in for a kiss. He didn't want Danielle prying anymore and sought to keep things to himself for now if he could help it.

Danielle returned it, squealing like a girl when the song ended and Logan decided to toss her on the bed suddenly. As the next musical number began, a little more upbeat than the last, the doorbell rang. Logan was about to close the bedroom door against Daken and Celeste when the whistling went through his ears. He did notice that Celeste did run downstairs, yelling that she got it. Danielle only groaned, cursing the horrible timing her children seem to have.

"Are you sure we don't have a few minutes?" Logan eyes shone with mischief.

"No, not this time," Danielle decided as she sat up. She was just as upset about it as Logan was. "Come on. Michael and Riley are here."


	39. Everyday Together, Always

Dinner went off without any problems, although Danielle noticed that it was strained because of the unspoken issues. Riley and Michael with their other halves enjoyed the food (complimenting Danielle on her cooking of course) and settled into their normal life when they were home, easing into conversations that got the table riled up. Soon after eating, they were bringing out the board games and trying to get everyone involved. Jax and Fiona decided that they had enough and drove back to the school sometime after dessert, unable to cope with the loud noise and the music too.

Danielle had to admit that it was getting very rowdy. It didn't help that Logan instigated childishly (he had a sort of naughtiness in his eyes) and he got Celeste and Daken going, which prompted Riley to jump in and then the rest of the younger adults. Even though Michael's boyfriend and Riley's girlfriend decided that they wanted in on the fun, Michael himself did not. At the dining room table, Michael crossed his arms in amusement, smiling in a way that Danielle had not seen before. He was in love and just liked being the adult of the pair, she decided, and left it there. For that, she was content.

Finishing up with the cleaning (dishes soaking in the sink for now), Danielle joined Michael, linking her arm into his empty one as he stood up. "Care for a walk out back?" she asked, hoping to have some privacy with her eldest son.

"Sure, Mom," Michael replied. He yelled out to his boyfriend that he'll be back soon and the two exited the scene, going out the front door and heading up the hill towards the back property.

Danielle had not been there in a while and allowed her son to guide her through the pathway. They passed the tall grass (all the while she was thinking of mowing it), inching closer to the woods. Danielle smelled the fresh pine scent around her, closing her eyes as they entered the worn trail, made by several people in the many years they had been in residence. Michael led his mother a little ways down, where she used to have a treehouse as a child. It was still there and very much in need of a little repair, but it was still sturdy and held their weight as they climbed up the ladder. Michael went up first to test the structure and then signaled his mother up.

As far as they could see, there was nothing except the beautiful green leaves off of the trees, the pine needles swaying year-round and even the chatter of the animals hunkering down for the night. The pair stood, admiring the view for a few minutes, and soon found a seat by the old table set. Danielle could hardly believe that they still remained intact, hearing them creak as she seated herself. They had to be as old as Jay, she mused, because they had been there when she was old enough to climb trees. The furniture even remained the same since before she was born perhaps, something that her father created after he returned home from Vietnam.

Chameleon had been rumored to have built the treehouse after Jay was born, Danielle recalled, or it could have been there and he improved it. At least, that was how Jay put it when they were younger and him the more mature of the two. She had been three when Chameleon left and had seen him reappear on and off ever since, that scoundrel who now sat in a nursing home, retired from assassinating and spying. Danielle had to admit that he was a good father in his own way, but he had hurt too many people and had indirectly set off a course that killed millions of people and caused the country to undergo such a chaotic state that it took years to set it right.

 _Well, at least he had a soft heart. Some good it did him, that asshole. He contacts me often, but I can't stand him now. He's getting too old and I still can't face him, even after forty years._

Michael looked at Danielle directly, catching her hazel eyes to his. "What's been going on, Mom?" he questioned in such an innocent manner. "Something is wrong."

"How do you figure?" Danielle tried to be as casual as she could, but she knew that Michael saw through it. Even playing this game never went well with her son.

Michael sighed in frustration. "There are too many questions and not enough answers. Why is Jax and Aunt Fiona here and not Uncle Jay? Why did they leave so early and without talking about what's up? Most importantly, why is Dad acting so weird and you look so sick?"

Danielle had to admit that Michael did not miss anything and hit the target perfectly. She promised Logan that she would try her hardest to keep the circle closed when it came to his time traveling and future changing adventures. However, that was not going to go well with Michael. Danielle bit her lip instead, trying to think on what she could say. She could mention that things were happening like she told Logan, but the way Michael was staring at her, waiting for specific answers, did not bode well. She sighed instead, licking the drop of blood that gathered on her lower lip.

"You are right in thinking that things are just… _strange_ right now," Danielle admitted. "I don't really want to divulge into the finer details, Michael, but I can say that Dad's memory doesn't remember much from a set of years onward and I'm trying to piece it together. This caused your uncle to get involved and that resulted in him going into a coma."

Michael put his hand to his mouth, feeling shocked at the news and his mother's almost indifferent tone. "How awful!"

"Your uncle is acting as if he had been shot, but Jean cannot see any possible way it happened," Danielle continued, although she had an idea why Jay was acting the way he was. It was harder to keep her emotion at bay, although she thought she was doing a good job. "It might have to do with a few things that…conspired in the past that we were not aware of. Maybe an old illness from the past or maybe that accelerated when we tried helping Dad."

"What could be wrong with Dad though?" Michael uncovered his mouth and folded his hands, interested.

"Things Dad did. It's just draining to have to dig through almost fifty years of memories."

"Well, Dad wasn't very forthright about his past. He told me that outright. But fifty years of sifting, Mom? That's a long time."

"Michael, he's also several years older than I am and has had more experiences than I ever will. Dad is also a very complex character and he isn't very open to me about his past too. I've only known of his existence since I was maybe a toddler, maybe a little older, and since he's trusted me with his life when I was a teenager, there's a limited amount of memories stored of those times. I remember first really talking with him when I was six and that alone was pretty dangerous."

"Wow. Way to go, Mom. Gotta start young, don't you?"

"I was a pain back then, Michael. I'll admit it. Never going to say I wasn't persistent and a pest."

"Must have been. Dad still loves you."

Danielle smiled weakly. "He does, I'm sure. Now, what about you and your boyfriend…Chris, right?"

Michael nodded enthusiastically. "Right. He is a pain too and he's a year younger than I am."

"Does he know that…you know…?"

"Yes, he does know what I can do, and he does not care that I am a mutant. He actually thinks it's great. I thought that…well, I thought that he was joking when he told me that he didn't care who I was. He wasn't serious at first. Not a lot of people are when they're my age. We had classes together and I thought that, even if he was intelligent and finishing up his masters with me, he was silly. He still is, but I thought it was the obnoxious type."

"Initial impressions are pretty bad. Go on."

"Mom, you can read mind and hop through memories. Can't you get it without me telling?"

"Lazy today?"

"More like tired."

"Naw, I don't want to. I like to hear you tell me a story. I always did."

Michael laughed. "Really? Why would you like to hear something as mushy as two guys falling in love? Don't you want biological grandchildren?"

"Eventually," Danielle answered carefully. It was the truth anyway. "Not now. I will take whatever I can get. If you're happy, I'm happy. You should know that."

This made Michael think, his forehead a set of wrinkles. "If…if my father was still alive, he wouldn't tell me these things."

"Your father also disowned you when you were a child and blamed me for who you are," Danielle replied, her face flushing at the memory. She did not like talking about Leon Ellis, even with Logan, and that alone showed so blatantly to Michael. "His opinion should not matter anymore. He has been dead for several years now and his word had been abolished."

"He rejected me?" Michael did not seem surprised.

"He did," Danielle confirmed. "A long, long time ago. He was going to name his cousin a successor to his crumbling government, but that did not work out too well."

"What happened to the cousin?"

"Some vigilante went into his hospital room after that horrible day and killed him. I'll leave it there."

"Do you know who?"

The heavy silence spoke volumes to Michael. He had a feeling that his mother knew what happened on that long August day in 2007. He was almost ten at the time, separated from his family since his father had kidnapped them and almost killed them. He and Riley had been locked up together and then apart, traveling when told to and starved many times over. That late summer day in Texas had been the first time he had seen anyone humane and it hurt him to view the pain of others he loved, even though the result meant the end of his father. The faces of the crowds even blurred and overwhelmed him that very night in the treehouse, even if it had been sixteen years since that hot afternoon.

"Ok then," Michael said, trying to dispel the awkwardness. "So, you're sick, Uncle Jay is in a coma and Dad is just plain insane. When does this family get a break?"

"Never," Danielle replied, trying to keep stoic and managing to smirk. She reached over the small table to touch Michel's hand, patting it in a reassuring manner. "Tell me more about Chris. You met him in class. You're both graduating together, it sounds like. How did the rest happen?"

The mention of changing the topic made Michael blush. He removed his hand from his mother's and proceeded to tell a tale about meeting Chris at a LGBTQ gathering at the college. He didn't realize that Chris was also there until they exited, picking up on a conversation from their meeting. By then, they were talking and having chance encounters, even though they had known each other through other classes and thought the other annoying. About a year later, after giving each other time and space to think about their feelings, they became a couple.

"No harassment?" Danielle probed. Hatred was everywhere. Her son being shamed about his sexual orientation was something she was always worried about.

"Some," Michael admitted. "No enough to make me report it though. Haters will be haters."

"Just words?"

"Small. People also don't know who I am, which makes everything easier. You can imagine the uproar if people knew that I was the biological son of Leon Ellis, the former dictator of this country. However, they don't and I can live with that. If it gets worse, I'll do something about it."

"I'm glad." Danielle wanted to say more, but felt nothing else was needed. By then though, the sky was getting too dark for them to see each other and the exchange was staling. "Want to head back?" she then asked.

Michael nodded. The two soon went back the way they came and soon returned to the farmhouse. Bitten by insects and covered in sweat and dirt, they entered the kitchen. Michael joined everyone in another board game and allowed Logan the opportunity to stop being referee. The older mutant met Danielle by the sink, deliciously eating her looks up. Even with her crossed arms and stubborn motherly lines, she was beautiful. She also was relieved in some way like a weight came off of her shoulders.

Logan was still upset about earlier, trying his hardest to forget the guilt when he saw his lovely wife. He was close, but it was not enough to push it away. The only way he could calm down was to review the story and wait for the continuation of it. He got to a point where the suspense was killing him again. However, he also saw that it was hurting Danielle more and more and it wasn't just mentally. Even if she was talking more than showing the past these days, she was still tired, pale and withdrawn. She could not support this charade for much longer, especially if her brother was staying in the horrible state now and did not recover.

Instead, Logan saw a glimpse of a younger smile playing on Danielle's lips. He took it as a good thing, hoping that her walk and talk with Michael was better than expected since the two were intense and sullen during dinner. He tried saying something, but Danielle put a finger to his mouth. The gesture tickled them both, but she meant him to not say anything. Even in the background, the kids had gotten wilder, blasting some music from the radio.

 _You and me,  
_ _We used to be together,  
_ _Everyday together, always.  
_ _I really feel that  
_ _I'm losing my best friend.  
_ _I can't believe this  
_ _Could be the end…_

All of a sudden, Logan transported himself to another time and another season. It had been a dismal Christmas so long ago, when he had been assigned to find Danielle after she had been under a loose house arrest in December of 2007. It had been after his trip to Japan, when he had been stopped at the airport and when he realized that things were worse off than even he imagined. It was also the beginning of the end of hope, when they could have stopped something and did not, when prophets and wise men decided that this world needed fixing and the years passed them without a positive change.

It seemed like time wasted in Logan's eyes. They tried to change the world and failed, spending the rest of the time before he woke up here running, wandering and fighting. In Xavier's view, they had been trying their best to survive in the world that was slowly dying, but in truth, Logan saw it as despondent, even though he himself felt so inadequate for the task that the Professor gave him.

 _It looks as though  
_ _You're letting go.  
_ _And if it's real, well,  
_ _I don't want to know…_

 _Don't speak…  
_ _I know just what you're saying.  
_ _So please stop explaining.  
_ _Don't tell me 'cause it hurts.  
_ _Don't speak_ _…  
_ _I know what you're thinking.  
_ _I don't need your reasons.  
_ _Don't tell me 'cause it hurts._

"Upstairs?" Danielle suggested, her finger still on Logan's lips.

As a response, Logan kissed her finger and gently pushed it to one side with his hand. This seemed the most subtle hint for something more and may be the time for it. Danielle beamed and started for the stairs. She sensed Logan's not-so reassuring presence behind her as he followed her to their bedroom. Finally, they could close the door behind them and lay on the bed, curled into each other's arms for strength and comfort.

"Does Michael know?" Logan was curious.

"Some," Danielle admitted, feeling guilty as she did. "Nothing specific. I got him talking about his boyfriend. Told him that I was happy for him and that I wasn't upset about no grandchildren. I'm a little too young at any rate."

"I think he needed to hear that from you."

"Well, I also think he needs to hear it from you too, Logan. You're as much as his parent as well as I am."

"Hey, I behaved. I didn't call them any names or teased them."

"That's step one. The next is telling Michael that he's still loved, no matter what, and that he's welcome here with his boyfriend. You're good at showing it, Logan, but you need to say it too."

This made Logan quiet. Danielle was telling the truth. They had all weekend to make things right, he hoped, unless something changed. He would have time yet to sit with Michael and tell him that he was important and, more prominently, that he was still proud of him, no matter how things went down. Indeed, it would be better from him than from his own father anyway, that scum.

 _He destroyed enough people in his life, his own children included. To hell with that man. He set a bad example for being a parent. How different life would be for us though, if he had changed the world and treasured his family._

Music drifted from the downstairs, almost as loud as the youthful cheering too. It drew Logan and Danielle closer together. Eventually, Danielle reassured herself into the crook of Logan's neck, singing along with the last of the song softly as he thought back to the disturbing circumstances that still brought them together, even on that holiday season so long ago, when she told him not to speak.

 _Our memories, well,  
_ _They can be inviting,  
_ _But some are altogether  
_ _Mighty frightening.  
_ _As we die, both you and I,  
_ _With my head in my hands,  
_ _I sit and cry…_

 _Don't speak_ _…  
_ _I know just what you're saying,  
_ _So please stop explaining.  
_ _Don't tell me 'cause it hurts.  
_ _No, no, no, don't speak…  
_ _I know what you're thinking.  
_ _I don't need your reasons.  
_ _Don't tell me 'cause it hurts._

* * *

 **Above lyrics are from the No Doubt song, "Don't Speak" from _Tragic Kingdom_.**


	40. Now and in the Future

**July 27, 2007**

Over five years had passed and with it, regaining of what had been lost and then found on the road towards self-discovery. The feelings of rage, pain and revenge remained, fueling a furnace that had been brewing and bubbling in the time in which they had stayed underground and attacked without caution or reason. But that was what it all boiled down to. They had to survive for themselves and find their footing or else be dead themselves.

As Logan cleaned his gun in his room, far away from everyone (and appreciating the loneliness), he thought back to that night at the farmhouse. He knew he should have trusted his gut instinct that day, but far from it, he allowed Danielle some amusement and did not think to check the positions of their enemy. For this time, that was what Ellis was and will remain until death. He had snuck behind their lines, destroyed whatever the Black Serpents had created to generate peace, and kidnapped his family. For all Logan knew, Danielle had allowed herself to die and her children had been left orphans for all their father did.

Logan had to shake his head, clearing his thought. _Shit._

From that beautiful spring day onward, it had been nothing but remembering what had happened, who he was and how he fit into the mission he took up until its ending. Logan did not like rehashing those months out, finishing his cleaning and working on loading his weapon and then starting on the next one. It was a pile he had picked up and decided to use himself, hoping that someone would pick them up in time. He cringed as he imagined the days when he wept everyday for no reason, screaming that he had to know who he was or else he'd die.

Of course, Logan could not get his wish. It was too far away to achieve, even now (and when he was physically close to forty years old), and the anguish was too much to bear. It got to the point where even Charles Xavier (someone in a wheelchair who claimed to have known Logan for many years) would with him every night, ensuring that he at least slept an hour or talked to him about his feelings.

Even after admitting everything when it came back and reliving those days again and again, Logan did not feel any better. He disappeared once more, leaving for a year to find himself. Wandering around Canada, he racked his brain to figure things out, but only had the dog tags and the necklace with the sun and moon pendants to run on. It was important to the redheaded woman he recalled as his lover, Danielle Mitchell Ellis, and to her older brother, the Army veteran named Jayden Mitchell.

By the time Roger caught up with him some months later, Logan was no closer to the truth and could not figure things out yet. He only had to listen to the master spy go on and on about how they needed to act and that Logan's specialties was called for, whatever that was. Roger explained the importance of the fight and resisting whoever was ruling down south previously, someone named Leon Ellis. They were involved with the military too, he explained, and that they only waited for word on when to strike.

Hardly convinced (even after four days), Roger and Logan went back to the temporary base (for they always moved) on the other side of Canada, near the Pacific Ocean. From there, Xavier met them and made a promise to Logan. If Logan would help them in any way they can, then Xavier would do the best he could to assist him in regaining his humanity…and his memories. It was the only thing that the Professor could offer to give Logan peace of mind and some closure and to get him back working. Again, not something Logan wanted to do, but the promises had been tempting and good thought went into making a decision.

It was a tough call to make. Logan had enjoyed being in the wild and not having to deal with anyone, although the lack of chapters before the present day had been disturbing (and the inability to create more was worse). He accepted everything put in front of him nonetheless, finding that he had a fighting style that was almost unrivaled. His mind also pulled out the most amazing tactics, most of them strike and move on.

It was also not an easy time, especially with the political atmosphere surrounding the worst personal time in one's life. From that point onward though, Logan had pledged himself to this cause of unification and peace. The methods were still not pretty and they faced another civil war unlike any other. However, it was the only way to work with a military group that was slowly gaining control of what used to be the US and battling what had been left behind of the former administration. That alone had been the downside of Ellis being overthrown. What had been the lesser of two evils had gained a footing and that were using any underground means to get what they wanted.

Xavier even agreed to everything, staying as far away as he could in order to avoid being a nuisance himself. In the meantime, he planned as well as Roger did (he always had an office to think), taking part in all meetings and scheming on their next step, even going as far as putting a finger on their moves. By night, he was still with Logan, working on him to recall his life, an exhausting and exhilarating experience for them both since it was one of self-discovery and grief.

In the meantime, their group diminished and soon resembled a small circle that stood so tightly-knitted that none could enter, even in the safety of Canada. Logan could list out all of the people they lost and watched be executed or taken away, but it was too much to bear since emotions were a downfall to life itself. He could instead bring back the people who had brought some good to his life and tried to take the sting of loss away. However, that too was painful.

Jean and Scott and their two young children had been arrested in their home in Nova Scotia while the others had been away at the store. Wanda, Lorna, Alex and Magda were next, picked off the streets near the Vermont border by warring military personnel who knew about Alex's former connections. Ororo and Matthew, who had settled in the British Columbia together, worked to bring mutant families to safety, but were soon caught in a trap they did not see. Even Rogue, Bobby, Colossus and Kitty had been cheated of their freedom at long last, disappearing when they stood guard at one of their bases.

While no word had been stated about the whereabouts of Magneto and Jay Mitchell, there had been more people who were as jailed (or dead) as they both were now. Jubilee and Nightcrawler had been found by the Ellis faction and were being imprisoned in a secret location, unable to escape. Jubilee received worst treatment, feeling the resentment of a lover who was betrayed by a mutant. Even Mystique was quarantined when located as a maid for a company, now stuck in her blue body in her second time imprisoned.

The only people who remained were Mae, Gil, Fiona, Hank, Chameleon, Teller, Xavier, Roger, Peter and Logan himself. Nine mutants and a human, all of them as lost as the last person, sharing an exile together in the hopes that they would return to their homeland, all of them seeing that they could only trust the other…or fall in the effort. There was no doubt about it. Without their efforts, they would be as incarcerated as their friends and family.

And yes, even the old Vietnam veteran stayed on and off, reappearing more and more as time passed and his distaste in disorder rose. That seemed to be the worst part for Logan though. It reminded him of the redheaded woman that he fell in love with so many years ago, the one that got away again and could be dead this time. It was her father that took Logan by the hand and reminded him that it was still ok to be angry, but not carrying it in his heart forever. Logan could not be mad at Danielle for her own demise. He had to reapply that feeling elsewhere and forget about it.

And that was only thing Logan lived for. He could no longer hope that Danielle and her children were alive. That day when they had been ambushed was the day he truly died in spirit and was reborn into the person he now was. Now, five years afterward, he still was smoking his cigars, cleaning those weapons and running in for the kill, all of them with a ghastly smile on his face and a battle song in his heart. He was extremely tart, always sarcastic and pretty impatient. The only thing he couldn't wait for was the day they would be able to go home to Salem Center and not have to be considered a danger to society itself.

 _To be normal again…_

By the time Logan finished cleaning and loading, Roger entered his bedroom. The master spy did not knock, only leaning against the wooden doorway with his arms crossed. He had a cigarette in his mouth, unlit. He wanted to smoke it so badly though, smelling Logan's cigars and wishing that it were the old days, when they would sit and chat (well, mock each other anyway). Now, he had to deal with Logan in a new way, an embittered old man that did not want to grow soft anymore (and partially in thanks to several people). It was good for a fight, Roger mused, but never with anything else. Social hour had ended the day Ellis shot Logan in the back of the head with an adamantium bullet and wiped his memories away. It was now the dark hour.

Logan finally decided to pay attention to Roger. "What you want?"

"Meeting in a few minutes," Roger simply replied. He was readying himself for a fight. "Just you, me and Chameleon."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Can this be another time? I'm not done here."

"Guns can be ready another time. We're moving tomorrow anyway and they're being left here for the next guys. Besides, I've got better stuff at the next location for you to play with."

"And if I don't want to?"

"I can always cut off your cigar supply. It won't be pretty, but at least I'll get some satisfaction out of you squirming without them. God, the smell!"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Logan, we need you. Whatever I can use against you to get you motivated, I'm doing it. Now, are you coming to the meeting or are you losing your shitty cigars?"

"What choice do I have?"

"Plenty, come on. Chameleon's got some important news to tell us."

This sounded promising, although Logan was loathe to be hopeful and pretended to be happy to stop his chore. He dropped the last thing he was working on and followed Roger down the hallway of their safe house, putting out the cigar in his hand and watching it heal as they passed Hank and Xavier in the hallway. Smoking had not been allowed inside (still!), but Logan did not care. What he did was seeing what was going on and what was so vital for him to hear at this gathering. It must be vital enough that only the three of them would be able to convene it.

Roger led Logan downstairs and into the dining room. He closed the door behind him, allowing Logan to find a seat near the head of the table. Chameleon was already there, picking at his long nails with a knife. He shed the dirt from the tip every so often against the chair, humming an old Army song softly. Once Roger had seated himself, Chameleon stopped his inane activity and faced the two with a stoic face, putting the knife away for the time being. There was most certainly something diabolical on his mind, Roger knew. He just did not know what it was… _yet_.

 _Wish I caught it though._ The master spy always hated being in the dark.

"Gentlemen," Chameleon greeted. "Well, if I can call you that. I decided on talking since I've been scouting with Teller and we've found out some interesting news."

"What?" Logan could hardly contain himself. He had not been keeping track of Teller and now understood why the former bar owner had not been seen recently.

Chameleon glared at Logan in an annoying way. "News from down south actually. I am sure you're all curious to hear more."

"Of course." Roger seemed excited about it, but reined his feelings."

"Now, the military has gained control of the former US for the most part," Chameleon revealed. "There are pockets of discontentment, but we knew that already. That's what we had been fighting against. Anything Ellis said or did has been abolished and destroyed, but his caravan of cronies lives on."

"Of course," Roger repeated, nodding enthusiastically.

"Now, they have found Ellis and his sheep," Chameleon continued. "He was mounting resistance and trying to get his seat of power back while beating his wife and kids at the same time. He is a formidable person to defeat, they had to admit, but they have found out where his next move is and they're willing to let him be."

The silence that followed was deafening. Logan had an idea of why the military left Ellis alone. He may have the supporters still, but he had lost his luster since he came back from Mexico. He had nothing more than a few armies, thousands of families who loved him and perhaps his own relatives. With the military knowing where he is, they might leave it open for someone else to do their dirty work and be rid of him. The question remained of how would do it though.

When understanding dawned on Logan on where Chameleon was going, he was elated on the inside, even if being under the thumb of the military wasn't always comfortable. A chance to get at Ellis was the greatest opportunity and the perfect revenge, especially in light of the events that he could not shake off. With his groupies so intent on being there, there was also a chance of ruining others' lives too, not-so innocent lives that had condemned mutants and anyone who did not go along with their plans for years.

At that point, Logan simply did not care anymore whether or not who was there. What if some other idiotic people were going to be there? In his mind, they deserved to die, even if that would prove to be a mercy. They followed a person willing to hurt innocents and send millions more to their deaths via several shootings, hard labor (of all ages) and even the self-destruction of their facilities. There was no room on this planet for this man and his people.

"When are we going?" Roger asked, voicing a concern before Logan could say anything.

"I'd say tomorrow, if Charles lets us, but we're supposed to be moving," Chameleon allowed. "However, there are a few things we need to consider first."

"Like what?" Logan was now growing impatient to leave. He had to get back a Ellis…he just had to!

"Prisoners," Chameleon replied. "We're not in the business of killing the blameless, Logan. You should recall that it had been rule number one from the beginning. Now, Ellis has a list of those he wants dead. He has been collecting them little by little for the past five years now and dragging them everywhere. The military does not need them, thinks we're just a bunch of harmless vigilantes like the rest of them. But because of this, we're going to need speed to get them out of the way before we run Ellis over. That, and a good shot to the head."

"How many are set to be executed by Ellis?" Roger had to know. This had been on his mind for a while, especially in putting Xavier's mind at ease. The Professor wanted as much of his family back as he could, or what was left of it.

"Many. I don't have the specifics. Hold on…"

"How _many_ , Chameleon?"

"Give me a second, Roger. I've actually got a list here. There are set dates, times and places. This is why we've been asked to get him the first round to avoid the next killings."

Chameleon flipped through some papers he had on the table that Roger and Logan did not notice before. The latter was growing heated though. The thoughts whirling inside of his head demanded action in that instant. He contemplated playing with his adamantium claws to make the process go faster (if only he was threatening), but decided against it. Chameleon was almost finished running through the pile anyway. He soon pulled out one page and scanned it. When he read it, he was so visibly shaken that he handed it to Roger to go through. The master spy then handed it to Logan with only a casual glance.

The familiar names danced on the page, so much so that Logan could not believe it. He simply could not, blinking his eyes a few times. The first names he saw had been Jay Mitchell and Danielle Ellis and her two children, Michael and Riley Ellis. The second had been Magneto, which did not surprise Logan since he had been a prisoner of Ellis' for so long. The last names had been various other mutants or humans that annoyed the former dictator, totaling to six after the initial five.

 _Eleven people…eleven people destined to die._

Logan handed the list back to Chameleon. "How does this work?" he inquired, feeling a calm rush over him. It wasn't reassuring to feel it. It just propelled him into wanting to heading into action.

"I want to bring the three of us obviously," Chameleon explained. "Quicksilver I also want. He can be used for rescuing purposes, he's that fast. No doubt about it though, he has earned his wings."

"Where would you place him?"

"In the crowds, near the stage. Remember, Ellis is taking the last of his supporters and making a show of it. Says here that he has had a few thousand people trail him the last few years. Almost made a Jim Jones sort of community. Even went as far as having some of their family members poisoned if they weren't with him. There has been no such thing as a physical escape except death."

"What about the others? Jean, Scott, Storm?"

"Logan, I can handle one thing at a time and Ellis is the top of the list. I am sure we can make plans to retrieve the others when this is finished. Now, back to us. I am having Roger scout the area and radio us when he sees a good shot. We're both going to handle three Ellis family members and have Quicksilver run in and grab as many people as he can. While I'm sure old Magneto can just run off on his own, I want my son and daughter and grandsons."

"Who are the other two?"

"Peter Ellis and his wife, Mary Belkin-Ellis. They are just as much to blame as Leon Ellis himself."

"So, the man who assisted in the rise of Leon Ellis has to take him out?"

Chameleon stared at Logan viciously, angry that the point was brought up. "Somebody has to."

Roger interjected before an argument broke out. "Now, what exactly am I scouting?"

"Crowd mood, chaos control," Chameleon replied, still glaring at Logan disdainfully. "You name it, it's yours. I am sure you can find a way to be a security guard and sneak in yourself."

Understanding, Roger grinned. "Easy enough, but at least I'm not cheap."

"Remember, we're alone," Chameleon reminded the pair, preparing to close the meeting. "While I am sure Charles has an idea of what we have been asked, there is no need to tell him about the mission. I am certain he'll be following the news as much as Hank does and figure out the rest. Let's take this one chance and make it right."

Chameleon soon disappeared into thin air. Logan sensed that he left the room, since it had been a quick exit since he no longer smelled him nearby. He stood up to return to his room and prepare for the move, about to leave when Roger stopped him. A gentle hand on the shoulder startled Logan, who had not known friendship and comradery since before that horrible night. Hearing their new assignment had been too bittersweet. It would be an honor and it would also be his downfall too.

When Logan met the master spy's eyes, he saw that they were worried. They had been that way since the night Roger found Logan, but that was beside the point. Now, it seemed to be stemming from his concern about Logan and Danielle. Chameleon was acting the same way, although he was so distant from his children that it did not affect him as badly as Logan (despite his earlier display). The older mutant was surprised to hear that they were alive and deeply raged that Roger was afraid that Logan would get carried away…and have them all killed instead.

"Do you need anything?" Roger asked instead, feeling it the most neutral thing to utter to a man who had everything and might watch it happen again.

"A gun," Logan only answered, turning on his heel and walking out. He left the master spy quite alone…and very much anxious about the day they would change history forever.

~00~

Five years…five _long_ years…

There had been nothing but darkness, pain and torture. She did not know how she survived. She was supposed to die, left to bleed to death in the doorway of the home she had always known. She would protect her children with that blood and remind them that her sacrifice was not in vain if they could only stay alive for themselves and hope for a better future. However, they had been spending their days just as she did and without her too. They were alone, starved to death and given no kindness. They had been dragged from place to place, put on display as an example of human error and stuffed back into a hole in which there was no escape, growing without love.

Slumped against the cold inside wall of a prison truck as it rolled to their final destination, the former dictator's lonely wife – the once beautiful mutant, Danielle Mitchell Ellis – could not sleep. She held onto the children that she had not seen in months, comforted by their presence and hoping that she could protect them from the spectacle sport her husband made of them. In the small window to her left, the sun rose, casting a deep yellow light into the vehicle. Other than the three present, it illuminated the only other inmate, an older man who had seen his life cast into a worse place than this ever will be.

Erik Lehnsherr, alias Magneto, sat opposite of Danielle, eying her and her children carefully. He was calculating something, she knew, and it wasn't just springing away from their prison. He had watched her since he had been crammed into the truck with her at the last stop some miles ago, a man who had hardly seen the daylight and had been as beaten as the days he had been in a concentration camp. He seemed sympathetic, but Danielle never trusted that. She only watched as he got up, groaning as his unused and thinning joints creaked, and sat down next to her.

"Ghost, some days you must find a space between serenity and rage," Magneto advised, something that surprised Danielle. It sounded so much like Xavier. "Today is a day in which we would need to prove ourselves and show the world that we are not dangerous, a moderate space. That middle ground is one of pure concentration, one that would give us the strength to get through this day. We must die, Ghost, and die we shall. However, it will not be with fear and anger that we leave this world. It is with spirit, grace and bravery."

Danielle waited for words of bravado, about the mutants being a better race than the humans and maybe some misguided scheme, but heard nothing of that. Years in prison had changed Magneto, more so than being in a German camp had, and that had included curbing his egomaniac and violent tendencies. His genuine smile was welcoming too, so calming after a storm that had no eye, and his arms were aching for comfort like a father missing his children from years before.

She curled into the embrace with ease, connecting to the same man who had been so distant to begin with, beginning his career in the public light on the banks of a Cuban beach to now, his dying day years in the future. Magneto felt calm, an influence that had the same effects on Danielle as she held onto children who might never grow up. However, he was at an age that he could look back with nostalgia, full of wisdom after a series of mistakes. Danielle, Michael and Riley had hardly tasted life and were on their way to another and without the chance for redemption.

"I'd like to see them try," Danielle finally replied, trying not to be so bitter. "They can try. They can mock us, strip us of our dignity and sense of self, but we cannot allow them to get to us. You're right. We must allowed ourselves nothing more than the middle ground. We must stand today or allow them to break us…now and in the future."


	41. This is Where It Ends

After their quick move the next afternoon, Roger, Chameleon and Logan readied themselves for the trip southward. Taking a vehicle with their weapons, IDs, clothes and other equipment, they waited two days before leaving with Peter. Roger initially took over as driver, riding through familiar roads that led down through Canada. At the border, they presented their paperwork to pass. Even though they were well-known throughout those circles and had been approved to come back when they finished, they had been warned that it was still unfriendly territory. The papers were stamped and they were off.

Peter had been very quiet throughout the trip, enough that even Roger wondered what he was thinking. He had lost almost everything – his home, his hope and his family – and he still kept up the fight. All he had left were the people who managed to not get captured and even then, he had been following orders or keeping himself on as a companion. He spat nothing out for revenge or death. He bided his time, much like the rest of them, and wished for a better future. Compared to Logan, Peter had been angel…and a dangerous one that Roger had to watch out for.

In the meantime, as Roger tried following Chameleon's directions, he drove on southward, switching positions with the veteran every twelve hours (and not offering the other two a turn at driving). Their ultimate destination was Texas. Ellis and the last of his following and armies had settled there on and off since it had been the state with the most support for the former dictator. The colony had pitched their tents in what used to be Dallas and Fort Worth, their mini properties spanning the two cities and their armed barricades the envy of the military. The center of Dallas was going to be the final showdown, Roger knew. Ellis had erected a stage just for the occasion and was bringing the prisoners there for their public execution.

All and all though, the trip was a little too quiet for the master spy's taste. They stopped rarely, usually to gas up the vehicle at a government-owned station, to switch out their license plates and to eat. Roger and Chameleon continued the driving without complaints from Quicksilver (as Peter asked to be called) and Logan, the spy by day and the veteran by night. It made Roger see how rested Chameleon really was, his fatigue never showing even if his worry for his children never ceased. Chameleon had to have been anxious about Jay and Danielle, Roger figured. If he was back in the day, he sure as hell was now.

Roger also never did sleep much, mostly checking in on their surroundings and giving directions for a few hours at night, he was that nervous about the possible failure of their mission (although even he expected it to be partial success). He also anticipated Logan or Quicksilver to jump out at any moment. Roger did not trust the two alone, even going as far as being nearby when they stretched outside their vehicle. Quicksilver found it annoying that, even after all these years, he was still treated like a kid. Logan only smoked calmly, giving Roger an evil eye every once in a while if things were too much.

Otherwise, Roger almost lost track of time, only checking it when they passed through what used to be Oklahoma and entered the Texan border. They had a day left before they had to put stakes in their positions and watch the show, waiting their turn for the hit. Throughout the daylight and the last night remaining to them, he and Chameleon hurried, even going as far as cutting breaks short and allowing tempers to be shorter. They did not have the luxury or convenience of comfort anymore. They were slowly losing their chances at assassinating Ellis.

By the next afternoon, when the hot southern sun became so unbearable that even Logan complained and asked for the AC, the four arrived about a mile from the large Ellis camp. The area was hardly leveled, ruins of cookie-cutter houses and city buildings sprawled for miles around. When Roger parked their car behind a hole in Ellis' defenses, they all exited, looking around to see if they had their work cut out for them. It seemed that way, the empty area only echoing the screams of the people and the guards too busy containing them to notice the arrival of their illegal company.

On Chameleon's signal, Quicksilver was shooed away to survey their target area, a ball of dust flying where he used to stand. Less than five minutes later, he was back, winded and sweaty from the effort. Roger handed him a canteen of water from the car, which Quicksilver drank down quickly. Coughing, he handed back the drink back to Roger and reported to the three.

"There's a spot higher up," Peter recounted, gasping. "It's not much. It's…it's on a hill, southeast side with a good view of the stage. Plenty of camo, used to be for some cable company. The building is pretty ruined, but the floors are still sound, even if there are holes in them. Perch is on the fourth floor."

"And the people?" Chameleon had to know.

"Vicious," Quicksilver admitted. "Vengeful too. They are yelling for blood."

By then, Logan had pulled out a cigar and lit it, one of his last. He had not touched them much since their departure from Canada and it seemed a little more comforting for the group that he bothered this time. Flicking some ashes away, he glanced around here and there, sniffing the air. His suspicion was apparent by the way he kept growling and averting his eyes from the others, moving his head quickly left and right, back and forth, to ensure their safety. By the time he finished his cigar and grinded the remainder of it under his heel, he was walking to the trunk, unlocking it with a claw.

Roger joined Logan, pulling out the clothes and ID tags that he and Quicksilver needed for their trip into the center of the action. Roger tossed Quicksilver his half, changing right there along with him and cursing under his breath about the heat. By the time they had been disguised enough to go, they grabbed their half of their weapons and the radios and were off, leaving without much of a farewell to each other. They knew the plan anyway. They would help corral whoever they needed to rescue, but it was ultimately up to Quicksilver to hurry them away. Chameleon and Logan were left behind to do the dirty work.

Chameleon pulled out a cigarette and lit it, passing his lighter to Logan when another cigar appeared. "When was the last time you staked out?" he asked Logan, hoping this last smoke break was short enough. They needed to leave as soon as possible.

Logan lit up his cigar and handed the lighter back to Chameleon. "Years."

"You remember how it's done."

"Like a bicycle."

Chameleon nodded. Logan was right in a way. Once you do something repeatedly throughout your life (or had a period of time where it was done), you can easily do it in your sleep years later. He didn't say much else, studying Logan the same way Roger had. Logan was tired, Chameleon noted, a tired old man that wanted to die. The white at the sides of his head had deepened and worry lines were etched on his face. He aged the opposite way his children did, Chameleon noticed in an amusing way. The bitter years of wandering, crying and recalling were over. The man that stood before Chameleon was war-wary and heartless. He no longer had any emotion except for an ache to lay down his bones and go onto the next life.

Five minutes later, they finished their smoking. Immediately afterward, they went into action. They beelined to the trunk again and grabbed their equipment – guns, radios and some cover. Logan stuffed everything in two duffel bags while Chameleon carted the guns, taking them apart and putting their ammo and the pieces into another bag. From there, they ambled into the city as invisible as they could be, searching for the building Peter was referring to. Logan soon found it ten minutes later (after pushing away some people aside to get in), nudging Chameleon in the sides with his elbow. The two then entered through the eerily opened entranceway, dodging the heavy sunshine as they found a stairwell and walked carefully to the fourth floor.

By the time they reached their destination, the cheering from the mass of people below had started. Chameleon urged Logan on, quickening their steps and taking shortcuts around the floor holes until they came upon a window with a wide view of the whole city before them. The pair did not realize how far they were to the scene, maybe eight hundred yards away, and that posed a big problem. It would be harder to take a shot and they had to be more careful (especially since it had been a long time since either had done this sort of thing), but it was doable.

They had to work fast. First, Chameleon and Logan unloaded everything and put their weapons together, alternating between drinking the last canteen of water. Second, they make sure they were safe by covering the area enough not to make it suspicious, using the hanging beams and some blankets they brought. Lastly, they waited. It wouldn't be long now before the show started. Ellis never disappointed.

Their patience was paid off one hundred fold. The deafening screams of the devoted rang out in celebration as Ellis entered the scene with his cousin and his ugly wife, waving in greeting and smiling from ear to ear. The three took the few steps to the stage centered around thousands of people, soaking in the admiration without managing to silence anyone. They then pointed something and yelled to the effect that the just desserts of the wicked were coming. It took a few minutes for people to realize what was going on, but when they did, it was as vicious as Quicksilver said it was.

Some seconds later, half of the crowds turned crueler than usual, throwing items at the trucks that had just entered and parked before them. Some tried rushing over to tip them over to one side, but Ellis managed to have them stopped as his guards swarmed around them and started unlocking the back of them all, pulling people out. After all, Ellis alone was going to throw the first and final shot and that was that. He could not afford anyone taking that away from him, not even his own followers.

Logan was tempted to give Ellis a piece of his mind, but Chameleon stopped him before the trigger was pulled. "Wait," the Vietnam veteran cautioned. "We've got some time."

"When?" Logan did not want to lay in the heat and delay forever. He was sweating worse than he had in the car, although it was hardly affecting him, and he was annoyed at being denied such a catch.

Chameleon felt like he was disciplining a child, Logan was that insolent. "Can you see Quicksilver and Firebird out there?"

Logan squinted his eyes for a second. "Yes, I do. Roger is by the stage, Quicksilver at least five yards away."

"Good. They're ready."

"What now for us, bub?"

"Again, we sit here and wait. Ellis is bound to suspect something if we try anything now."

"How long do you think we have? I'm not seeing much."

"Five minutes into a speech max, if we're lucky. I'm not going to even allow him the chance to take his weapon out."

"He has it on him. Easy reach."

"Not the point, Logan, not the fucking point. I need to make sure his hand doesn't even _touch_ it. I am the only one who begot my children. By this laughable God and his damned angels, I'll be the only one taking them out. Nobody is touching them again."

Logan did not understand the dedication Chameleon had to his children (and even raised an eyebrow about his blasphemy). After all, he left the household when Jay was thirteen and Danielle three and hardly saw them ever since. He had been in the background and instigated in their downfall indirectly, helping a man rise to power that did not need it. The Vietnam veteran may have questionable morals over the years, but he seemed to genuinely care…and that was a trait Logan wished he had and may never again.

Instead of thinking it through, he kept an eye out on the remaining trucks that rolled in. There had been six in total, all of them harassed by the crowds. One by one, guards came by and unloaded them, chaining together those who exited and were due to be put to death so that they could not run. Logan eyed the lines they all made, the left and right by guards and the middle one full of prisoners. Even protected by the police force, they were heckled on all sides, their heads bowed in a shame that Logan could not comprehend.

By the time the last one was emptied of its occupants and the line ended, Logan had to use all of his willpower not to discharge his weapon prematurely at Ellis. A woman stepped out gracefully and bravely, much older than she ever had been, and desperately tried to keep two small children with her, gripping them tightly and with a love that did not extinguish in their upcoming death. While someone fought her and took the two kids away regardless, her empty arms were angry, destitute even. Behind her, an elderly man patted her on the shoulder, whispering something in her ear and hopefully telling her that it will be all right in the end and that it would not be in vain.

 _Danielle._

~00~

Ever since facing the wave of people who tried tipping over the vehicle, Danielle almost turned back and wept. They took her children away from her, chaining them to metal links that dragged them down. They took the lead as they followed the two-sided guards up the wooden stairs to their father, standing in triumph with Peter and Mary. Even after Magneto whispered at her to have strength, she had to move on. She accepted the same treatment everyone else received, walking awkwardly the same way Michael and Riley did and was soon standing before her horrible husband, a man who lusted after her and lost it all.

Ellis glared at Danielle with nothing more than contempt. He kissed for forehead gently (a reminder of the early days of their marriage when she was perfect in every way for him), indicating that he was more than willing to allow mercy, and soon had saliva in his eye. Danielle wasn't one for spitting (she considered it disrespect), but after years of inflicting pain and suffering upon her and their sons, he had earned it. She hoped that he became paranoid about disease and death in her hands. He most certainly seemed the type to worry.

Danielle felt herself being slapped in the face. She did not realize how hard it was until she felt blood rain down her cheeks and heard the jeering become louder, all of them yelling for Ellis to make it harder. She stood up, staring at her husband with the same hatred, and allowed herself to be led to the front of the stage by his cronies, lined up like criminals with the other eight people, two of them the children with Ellis.

 _And all for the crime of being different._

Ellis finally got over his embarrassment, climbing onto a podium and waving his arms to call for as much silence as he could receive. They hardly obeyed, all of them braying for the mutant blood he would shed for them. A man with a mission, who decided that his disobedient wife and children had to die, was one to be respected and he could not control even that anymore. It was disgusting to Danielle, standing there without a plan to escape. Although there were a million schemes in her mind (and trust the assassin in her to do that), all of them ended up with her dead. There were just too many of them willing to finish the job.

Once Ellis managed to get everyone as quiet as he could, he began. "My people… _my_ people…"

Peter Ellis was soon behind each prisoner, kicking them at the back of the knees to get them to kneel. "Show some respect for your leader," he uttered, moving aside to allow his wife the chance to straightened them out and apply the cover for their eyes.

Mary had disappeared for some years, locked away in various cities to escape her own fate after her brief nursery tenure with Michael. Some rumors swirled around her, much like the old story about her murdering her brother years before, and most of it seemed typical of her too. Danielle had heard that she was the center of all plots concerning their pathway back to power and has even contemplated divorcing Peter (not that it would surprise her). Mary did her best to promote Ellis and has even evaded capture from the military.

Today, she was victorious, leaning into Danielle's ear to whisper her final words. "Hope the brats get it first," Mary gloated. "I would love to see them squirm."

"Wouldn't you wish," Danielle replied, feeling a blindfold block her eyesight.

 _My last view of the world in its madness, hardly awake and alive._

Ellis then began his speech, his loud voice booming to the ready ears. Danielle did not remember much of it. She chose not to this time. Even after being married to him for ten years, most of them being a prisoner, she did not beam with pride when he roused the population in their passions, even though she previously had been fascinated and stood to one side as it continued. Now, it was nothing.

Once upon a time, there was a chance that Danielle tried her best to be the best wife she could be. She would have gone through hell and back again and all to forget a man she once loved to distraction. Now, Leon Ellis meant nothing to her. She has tried to be the perfect spouse and now, it cost her so much, including her life and the abusive childhood her sons endured and soon would finish with a bullet of a gun.

There was no way out now. And Danielle only had one person to blame. _Herself._


	42. The High Costs of War

_Every time we lie awake,  
After every time we take,  
Every feeling that I get,  
But I haven't missed you yet._

 _Every roommate kept awake,  
By every sigh and scream we make,  
All the feelings that I get,  
But I still don't miss you yet._

 _Only when I stop to think about…_

The speech seemed to go on forever, even if only three minutes had passed. Ellis was taking his sweet time to rouse up everyone and get the show off to a suspenseful and beautiful beginning. Logan was not quite patient, still itching to do something for those they needed to rescue. However, he had to lay down on his stomach in their spot and watched the action. The blanket itched underneath, the feeling fading. Chameleon, on the other hand, kept moving to get comfortable.

All eleven mutants had been blindfolded and were kneeling before the spectators, pushed back now by garbage and rotted food. Some were visibly crying with tears thick and heavy, others had relieved themselves on the stage. Jay did nothing, he was so weak from spending years in hard labor, isolation and starvation. The older man that was behind Danielle earlier was now next to her, reaching over to grab her hand and squeeze it.

"Holy shit, it's Erik," Chameleon announced. "I can't believe it."

Logan turned back to Chameleon quickly. "What are you talking about?"

"He may have changed a lot over the years, but I recognize that tattooed arm anywhere," Chameleon replied, pointing to the bare limb with black numbers written on it.

"Bub, I've dealt with him a lot over time –"

"And I've known him longer than you've been under Charles' care, Logan. That man is Erik. Ellis is going to finally kill him along with my family."

Logan did not mention that he didn't care, thinking it best not to agitate an already-tense situation. After all, Magneto had been a pain in the ass since joining, leaving and then rejoining them. He was egotistical, an asshole troublemaker (and Logan was being nice) and even two-faced except to Xavier (and that was dubious too). While they all considered him more of a murderer and terrorist than anything else, it seemed poetic justice that he stood there, waiting for his death by metal.

However, the emotion in Chameleon's voice caught Logan off-guard. He had been attached to his children and grandchildren down below, but the Vietnam veteran never claimed to have friends or cared for anybody (except maybe Teller, but even the bar owner did not say much about their friendship). His voice had cracked when he said Ellis was going to kill Magneto, a companion of his from multiple decades.

 _Bonds are deeper than distance and years._

Chameleon snuggled into his lying position again, lowering his head and aiming. He did not specify which target was his and which was Logan's yet, but the older mutant had an idea of who was going first. It would be the closest person who was the least important, Mary Belkin-Ellis. She had married Peter Ellis almost thirty years before and had a nasty reputation before that. She had schemed, plotted and put her finger into every piece of pie there was and made sure life was horrible for her inmates, using her power to dominate. She was inhumane and abusive…and she would not be missed.

"Get ready," Chameleon cautioned.

"Get them if you can't?" Logan was readying himself nonetheless.

"Right. I want a warning shot though, to see what would happen."

"Where?"

" _Her_ …the fucking bitch that ruined my daughter's life."

"It would give them our position."

"I didn't say it had to hit the woman. It can ricochet."

"Possible she can be hit."

"By then, she'll be in a better position to get her anyway. All the better, Logan. All the better for us to kill her."

 _I hate everything about you.  
Why do I love you?  
I hate everything about you.  
Why do I love you?_

 _Every time we lie awake,  
After every hit we take,  
Every feeling that I get,  
But I haven't missed you yet._

 _Only when I stop to think about it…_

"Who are you going to get next?" Logan prepared himself for the initial volley.

Chameleon said nothing. Instead, he pulled the trigger and aimlessly allowed his bullet to sail to the next building, making an echoing sound that almost nobody noticed. Logan followed its trail, his eyes seeing it land near Mary's feet. She turned around frantically, searching back and forth for the source of the noise, and did not seem to find anything. She was getting suspicious though, Logan noted. It might raise awareness, nothing more. Just her paranoid fantasies and inane fears would be alerting Ellis and all without proof.

 _Perfect._

About a minute later, Chameleon reloaded, this time filling in all six slots. Below them, Ellis was droning on and on about gathering together under a banner of blood, an ocean that would cleanse them (or something like that, Logan thought). They had to march against this insanity, he yelled, and it would begin with the end of their enemies now. It was Dallas and Fort Worth, the state the next. The final steps would be the whole country and then the entire world.

It was the same things Logan had heard for years, words that Ellis threw to the wind that persuaded a generation of sheep to bloodshed, death and chaos. They were repeated even after over twenty-five years, a desperate plea from a man on the run to those who had come with him in this hot place and for this long too. It was extremely ludicrous and it was enough to make Logan rage against the cage bars and allow the beast to come out at long last.

Just as Ellis was finishing up about the mutants and their friends that overthrew him, Chameleon positioned his weapon and fired again. He hit Mary in the back shoulder just as she turned around to applaud Ellis. The next three, just as she twisted her head to see what had happened, blossomed into a red badge in the center of her forehead and in her chest twice. Mary fell onto the stage, collapsing onto the wooden slats dead seconds before impact.

That was when all of hell broke loose, the gates opened to the rush of the flood. Once they realized that an assassin was nearby, everyone scrambled for cover, not caring anymore about the speech or Ellis and his prisoners about to die. Hundreds ran to avoid being shot, trampling each other in the process, children included. The stage even shuddered under the weight of dozens trying to hide from Chameleon and Logan, all of them even running through the thick red puddle now pooling around the body of the now-dead Mary Belkin-Ellis.

Ellis was not fazed by this turn of events though. He continued his speech, stopping every so often to calm them and to shove a few of them out of the way (since most had tried to take the podium with Ellis), taking the limelight only for himself. He even tried using the same paternal phrases from long ago, but that was no longer working with this sort of people. They were panicking in the face of death as all humans tended to do and refused to see that horror was not the answer they sought.

"We need to finish this up," Chameleon warned, watching the blurs Quicksilver made, grabbing each prisoner and hauling them away, most likely those who were not as important. Logan readied himself, stiffening as Chameleon chose his subsequent victim. "The next one is for Jay."

Again, Logan was surprised, feeling that many would fit that category. "Which one?"

"Peter Ellis, that cock-sucking ass-kissing low life scum. Champion of the rich and always with a thumb in his damned mouth. He has been the one making sure Jay has been separated from his sister and making sure they're never together. I'll never forgive him for destroying my son's life."

"He's with his wife. Sure it's a good idea?"

"Strange angle, I can see."

"Make it count."

"Always, Logan. Always."

But there was no way. Every time Chameleon tried to take that shot, Peter Ellis hid somewhere, mostly behind where his wife fell, hardly protecting the body. He also used others who were scrambling to get out of the way, hiding behind them like a knight with a shield. Before long (and maybe moments later), he was open for a second, an open opportunity that Chameleon took. He managed to catch Peter's ankles, immobilizing him and allowing him to be a victim of the rally, although that was put into serious question.

There wasn't much for Peter to die from since he avoided being stepped on as much as he could. Chameleon attempted another time to find a good position (mostly aiming for the chest and head, much as his wife had gone), but there were too many people in the way and he did not want to risk hitting innocent people. By then though, there was no more time to waste. The main mark was still alive and trying to quell the unrest, ignoring that fact that it was falling apart and would never organize itself.

"We're being attacked, you fools!" Ellis finally yelled, waving his arms frantically in an effort to gain more control. He abandoned his speech for the time being, unable to believe that he had a monkey wrench in his plans and all by simple gunshots and a dead relative too. "They mutants are coming after us, to take back what is rightfully ours. Fight back! _Fight back!_ "

Nobody was listening still, which made is harder. In the end, Chameleon decided that Peter Ellis was small potatoes and tried for the head himself, but again there was no good shot. He waited another thirty seconds. Still nothing. Another ten seconds passed and Ellis was blocked from exiting the stage, stuck in his own making. Chameleon tried for the shot again when he had the chance, but the weapon jammed, his trigger stuck.

Damning the shotgun (and Roger, since they insisted on them instead of the one-shot sniper rifles Chameleon loved), Chameleon studied the scene before him. The plan was backfiring already (no pun intended) and he had to finish the mission. There was no time to play with the weapon and get it to work again. Logan was his backup. There was still a chance.

 _I hate everything about you.  
Why do I love you?  
I hate everything about you.  
Why do I love you?_

 _Only when I stop to think  
About you, I know…  
Only when you stop to think  
About me, do you know?_

"Logan, I need you to get him," Chameleon declared, deciding that the gun was of no consequence anymore. "I need you to shot Leon Ellis."

"What?" Logan did not expect this. "I have a worse angle than you do. I'm not getting him."

"Do it," Chameleon ordered sternly, a drill sergeant to a private. He did not want to embarrass himself by mentioning the jam. " _Do it!_ We don't have much to work with."

"Quicksilver is getting them all out now. We can wait for a clearing and get Ellis then."

"No, we can't, Logan. Not this time. He's open, a lot more than you think. I've seen you in action. You can do this. I have faith in you."

Logan did not think so. He thought Chameleon's confidence was misplaced. Xavier had said the same thing many times to him before in the five years he had been trying to find himself. He never believed that either. However, the way Chameleon was looking at Logan conveyed much more than that. He was so sure that Logan could complete this undertaking and that it never allowed any room for error or doubt. Logan wished he had that himself, but now felt that he had no choice. He could not allow Ellis to escape again.

For the first time since the excursion began, Logan watched the action below through the rifle periscope. There was so much going on that he had to find the right breach to fire. Ellis had given up on his communication already, yelling for his guards to catch Quicksilver. The kid was still as fast as the day Logan had known him. He managed to get almost everyone out (save for the few that were led away), leaving Danielle and (possibly) her children and Magneto for last since they had been the toughest to reach.

Roger had remained quiet on the radio, but soon was issuing code through their speakers, stating that they needed to head out and like the wind because the situation was getting worse and they would soon be enveloped in it. Even when Quicksilver tried to get back to the stage to grab the last five people, Roger was seen visibly to be violent with Quicksilver, grabbed a hold of his hand and stilling him and with good reason. Ellis was shooting into the crowds himself, calculated at first and then wildly and recklessness.

With a wave of his hand, the two children disappeared, who knew where. Logan cursed at himself (and even at Roger and Quicksilver), muttering that they were too late for them and the others. However, Magneto and Danielle remained. Ellis first went to his wife, pulling her long red hair back to expose her neck, and shouted upward to the skies about the evilness of women, especially little witches that had been mutants. He put the gun – a simple pistol – to her ear, stroking it against the lines folded inside, and announced his intentions.

By then, Logan's mind blanked and traveled to a happier time in his life. He felt he was no longer in Dallas in an abandoned building, sitting in a sniper's nest. He was lying in his bed at the mansion, holding onto a beautiful redheaded woman who always smiled at him and fulfilled his every dream, calling him an ancient asshole and planning their future together. They had been waiting a long time a couple and she was finally old enough, proving to him that this was no childhood crush and that it was a relationship she wanted. This was real love, pure and simple, and that their life was no joke.

It was a fantasy unlike any other and one that Logan could not afford to lose again. He relished that illusion, trying to hold onto it through the turmoil in his mind. God, it had been the first time in over five years that he tried to hold onto the most cherished memory he had of Danielle Mitchell. It was also the first time he felt like he cared and that life was still worth sticking around for. He wasn't just there to assassinate a man who was bent on destroying them all. He was there to hopefully resume his life with her for the rest of their lives if he could allow that pain again.

And that was when Logan's rage took over.

 _I hate everything about you.  
Why do I love you?  
You hate everything about me.  
Why do you love me?_

 _I hate, you hate…  
I hate you, love me…_

 _I hate everything about you.  
Why do I love you?_

By the time Logan woke up from his reverie, the deed was done. He opened his eyes, back in the steaming nest next to Chameleon. Before him was an almost silent world. It seemed like it had ended the way everything had fallen. While the body count was high due to the trampling and the shooting from Ellis, so were the living, all searching for the source of their liberation, if that was what they could name it. Logan and Chameleon were hidden well enough that they could not be found, but they both could see that the course of events had suddenly changed and that the ripple in the water was larger than they expected.

With shock, they could see the result was the desired one. Ellis was dead, his limp figure now held in his widow's blind arms.

~00~

Throughout the humiliating experience, Danielle had to rely on herself to see what was happening. She could not physically use her sight, but she could sense the mood of the crowds and hear the insults and lies around her. She could not pay attention to that, feeling that it would not due to have that when she was going to die. Instead, she tried her best to go through her life and relive some of the best moments. She had to hold onto something that would get her through this ordeal just before the end came, to show her dignity and strength in the face of this farce.

For that was Ellis' intention, no doubt about it. He was going to kill them all himself and cleanse himself in their blood in a new awakening of his rising. It would be the last purge before he moved onto the next, she knew, and that it would assist him in another climb to power. They all wanted to see a show. Ellis was going to give it to them, whether or not it was wrong. He had done it for years anyway. Why not give them a few finales?

Danielle did not hear much of the speech. She was wound up in the days where she was with Logan that she did not notice that Magneto holding her hand, cold and sweaty. It was comforting, again outlandish from a man who spent his days either in prison darkness or misleading pathways. She took it as it was, trying her best to do the same for him. She could feel that Magneto hardly needed it, but thinking to the days when he first talked with the Professor, recalling that revenge would not bring him any peace. Death only be the beginning of it.

Nonetheless, she found it unusual that the mutant who could control metal was now unable to. However, with a little permission (and a chuckle) to probe further, Danielle could tell that Magneto had been drugged so much that he could no longer use his powers…and that it would be demise that would release him when before he was stuck in a withdrawal stage of perspiration and tears.

Only a few minutes passed before something happened, something that Danielle actually did not expect or pay heed to. She heard a bullet jump from one building to another and land nearby, nicking the wood on the platform. Mary was close by and gave a little whimper of fright, hastening to Ellis and trying to warn him. Danielle did not hear that conversation, but listened more prudently outside of that circle, trying to gauge where things were. She initially sensed a recognized presence nearby and then another running so fast that she could not keep up. By then though, the crowd was getting anxious and starting to riot, trying desperately to leave when the yell for an assassin was sounded.

Everything happened so abruptly that Danielle could not keep up. It was so hectic too, even if she could not heel to its powers and join the crowds. She could only stop herself from following along, allowing the shuddering on the stage to rock and shove her as she concentrated, creating the tunnel towards another light. She needed to pinpoint one person and await the fate coming to her.

Just as time slowed to a crawl, she was pulled up to her feet by Ellis, her head jerked back just so and her grip on Magneto broken. Danielle had not talked much to her husband in five years, but when she did, she dreaded and despised every minute, this one above all. This time was the moment she had been waiting for, the one where her husband was going to attempt to kill her and wait for her to just slip away by will alone.

 _And that's what he wanted. He wanted to make me a freak of nature. Leon wanted a show, he's going to get one. I'll croak on him, all right._

Danielle felt herself fading away towards the easy road, but stopped herself, noting some new changes. Jay had been moved. While elated earlier to be so near to him and without the chance to even send a message or say a word, now her other half had disappeared, taken away the same way he came in. Next came the worst part, a feeling she could have done without – her children. Michael and Riley had been with her since they had been moved to the truck a few days before. Now, her connection to them had severed.

She wanted to cry out with a mother's pain and regret, but could not. Enough that she had to contend with Ellis and ultimately choosing to perish by her own hands before his pulled the trigger. Now, so close to losing the taste for living, she would depart from this world without her children being nearby.

Ellis had put the pistol next to Danielle's ear, whispering before his finger moved the trigger ever-so slightly. "Say good night, Danielle. It ends here and now."

Even though she had been blindfolded, Danielle closed her eyes and waited for the end, imaging that tunnel again and feeling her mother on the other side. Instead of a blow to her head though, she heard one from above…and one that hit Ellis right in the forehead.

Danielle was released from her self-made Grim Reaper, Ellis' weapon dropping and discharging feet away and in a random direction. She sightlessly held out her hands to grab Ellis and almost slipped, managing to hold onto him by the back, shuddering under the heavy weight. When Danielle went into his mind to see what had happened, there was nothing left.

Leon Ellis, once a politician, dictator, father and husband, was dead.

Immediately freed and startled by the suddenness of his death, Danielle jumped back, peeling away the cloth that blocked her sight. Before she could say a word or decide what to feel, she felt herself being picked up by someone and sped away. The next thing she remembered was being deposited near a car a few miles away from the site of her execution. Seconds later, Magneto stood next her, just as confused as she was. However, even he knew what this meant. They had been saved.

Magneto did not waste time figuring out what to do. He understood what had happened and saw that he now had a second chance. After all, he could hardly believe his luck. He did not have faith for so many years, stuck in one deep hole after another, and now stood on the edge of liberation, years after the initial one had set him on the path towards a dark revenge. Now, he had to somehow make it right. As he watched Danielle, he noticed her looking around, not believing where she was, and allowing the hard realization to hit her before he proposed his idea.

The older man, still feeling clumsy from the drugs, walked over and held the young mother in his arms, knowing that she alone would understand the pain of loss. He allowed her to sob into his shoulder, blubbering about her children and how they were going to be killed. Magneto could have promised her many things, most of them involving the boys coming back to her alive, but he could not give false words to a grieving woman who was so worldly. Instead, he issued one himself, something he meant in every way to keep and one he knew would help to redeem himself after years of being at war with himself and others.

"I'll get them back, Ghost," Magneto reassured the crying mother before him, still shaking in his arms. "You can count on it. No matter what it takes, you'll have your sons back, dead or alive. The cost cannot be as high as it is now."

* * *

 **Just a few quickie notes, as always...**

 **I had noticed throughout the last two stories that I don't really differentiate between my character of Peter Ellis and Colossus and Quicksilver (sharing the same name and all). When I can, I don't use their first name of Peter, instead using their mutant names unless otherwise specified in the story. I apologize for any confusion.**

 **Lastly, the lyrics are from the Three Days Grace song, "I Hate Everything About You".**


	43. Ripples in the Water

Logan could not tell what happened next after seeing that smoking gun. All he remembered was packing up the equipment and moving out with Chameleon. The two rushed down the stairs and passed through panicking crowds back to their vehicle, denying any involvement if asked. Chameleon saw the car and moved faster, but Logan stopped. He saw the scene before him and it was not pretty if he had to be honest with himself. Already, Quicksilver had retrieved several people, but missed three out of the eleven, two of them children. The remaining survivors were dazed and unable to believe what conspired. Half of them were relieved, the others in tears.

However, what made him not join them was Danielle. She was crying into Magneto's shoulder and talking about her missing sons, thinking that they might be dead soon. Logan could not stand it. He never liked crying women and wasn't about to tolerate it again. He turned around to leave, but was soon stopped by Chameleon. The Vietnam veteran dared to put a hand on Logan's own shoulder and almost took a tough hit. The two then glared at each other with hard eyes, each of them with their own mission in mind.

"Where you heading to?" Chameleon asked, his head motioning to the car. "You're needed here."

"We're not done yet," Logan replied, failing to mention his aversion to the emotional. "We missed one."

Chameleon laughed. "Peter Ellis? Who knows if he is alive or not? Roger can dig up that information easily enough and sweep him under a rug."

"And that takes time," Logan pointed out. "We don't have that. The hydra can multiple. Strike off all of the head and the roots, we'd save ourselves the future hassle."

Chameleon looked back to the car and back at Logan again. "You know, I can't face my daughter right now," he admitted, feeling ashamed from deeds in the past. "I lost Jay again already and I cannot live that down. That would be another exploit and one I might not able to keep this time. You think Peter Ellis is going to grab the reins and make a go? If so, I think it needs to end then. It might mean my son can find his way out and have an easier time at it. Maybe then I can see Danielle and tell her how sorry I am."

"We might find the others later. Right now, we need to move and now. If they have the chance you want them to have. I think this appointment you can keep. This involves your son."

"Easier said than done, Logan. However, you seem to want to take this one on alone. Want me to come with you anyway? Seems we're two of a kind here."

It was a good question. Logan did not know how to answer it. He preferred to be unaccompanied in this task, but the way Chameleon glanced at him made him cave in. He did not want to be there when Chameleon and Danielle decided to talk and today did not seem the time to have that conversation, especially since she was so distressed. It was enough that she was distraught and almost died and had her children stolen from her once more. Adding fuel to the familiar personal fire was unbearable.

Logan nodded instead, which made Chameleon relieved. "Let's go then," he said, motioning that the two to depart. They passed Quicksilver and Roger on their way out, the latter giving them an askew glance before following them.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Where are you two going?" Roger demanded when they were all out of everyone's earshot. "You two deaf or something? The plans are to head back to base. You're doing the opposite. This was _your_ plan, Chameleon. We'd be mapping out New York next."

"We've got once more," Chameleon revealed. He and Logan did not bother facing the master spy and continued walking.

"He's in some hospital now," Roger recounted, which made the pair in front of him halt. They finally eyed Roger, asking for an explanation silently. " _What_? Peter Ellis was picked up by their ambulance just minutes ago. Local place, just down the road. Security is tight there since they're trying to find us. So, make up your mind. Stay or leave."

"Get them out of here," Logan decided. "We'll catch up later."

Roger nodded. "We'll never be safe again until the last one goes. Military can move in after tonight and take control, all according to the plan. Before we know it, we might be home again sooner than we think and live a normal life."

The three parted ways, Chameleon and Logan continuing on into the city. They dodged back and forth into other buildings to avoid the remainder of the crowds from earlier, still carrying their equipment, blending in with the others who also carted their belongings. Eventually, as they reached the other side of Dallas, they hide their bags in another abandoned apartment complex and managed to see their surroundings. This gave them both an opportunity to glance around and realize what kind of ripple they created.

Around the pair had been the result of their work, a lot of it they did not expect and were not surprised about. Aimlessly, people wailed their grief as they packed their worldly goods, crying out that Ellis had been murdered and by mutant assassins, no less. Nothing had been said about Mary Belkin-Ellis and nobody stated who was going to lead the pack now that Ellis was dead. That satisfaction was only felt by Chameleon and he felt justified by it, knowing that the sheep were going to get their due soon enough.

In the meantime, they knew that they had to hurry before the city was emptied. The military had told Chameleon this information so that they could strike early and get their people out of the way so that they could take over the town and run everyone down. Right now, Logan and Chameleon had to be as invisible as they could in order to pass undetected. They did not want to be victims of the military's version of cleaning up a town much less be mistaken for Ellis' people.

Hiding in another housing complex near the hospital, the two sat down against a wall, trying to catch their breath. It had been a hard few days and it was finally hitting them harshly. Chameleon, although younger than Logan by decades, was more tired. Groaning, he took his Army jacket off and wadded it into a ball, using it as a pillow behind his head. Comforted for a few minutes at least, he relaxed, closing his eyes as if to sleep off the events around them.

"I didn't mean to do it, you know," Chameleon randomly said softly. "It just happened."

"What did?" Logan was in no mood for vague comments and conveyed as much in his tone."

"What I did to my daughter when she was little," Chameleon clarified. "I was playing dolls with her…you know, like I probably shouldn't have since I looked like such a damned fool doing it. She was a tiny child, almost like her playthings that Shannon and her mother bought for her. Reminded me of her mother too, the way she was so sweet and innocent then, loved people and being outdoors. What Danielle is now is a mess."

"Now isn't the time for regrets," Logan warned. He didn't want to hear old stories.

"This isn't regret." Chameleon seemed very defensive. "This is redemption now. I never wallowed in misery. Can't an old man tell a tall tale or two?"

"Not today."

"Why? You have your own reconciliation to contend with. Tell me about that. You must have years more on me."

"You're not the only one who has failed people."

"Well, Logan, you've lived longer than I have and I'll probably be dust in the wind by the time you're through on this Earth."

"Don't be cynical, bub."

Chameleon opened his eyes, rolling them. "Listen, Logan, we're all upset over what happened. What we did today…it changed everything. The military has been trying to get control over the whole country for a few years now and they liked us enough because we started getting the job done. What they asked us to do…wow, I can't believe it. I still can't. I've done a lot over the years too and that still does not compare to this disaster."

"Why? We've eliminated a threat to us. We can come home soon."

"If you can believe it, Logan, Leon Ellis used to be a friend and a really good one too. I mean, he was green behind the ears and didn't understand what it meant to pack light, but I felt sorry for the kid. He was always trying to be greater than he was at home and didn't like it that his sister got the most attention."

"So?"

" _So_ , Logan, it meant that he was left to other devices. Someone needed to control him and get him on a good path. That's why Teller and I decided to take him on. I didn't know that he would go this far and with my young daughter too. Such a waste."

"He was a waste of space, you mean."

"Well, now, yes, he was. His cousin was worse. Joined after Leon, but had a desk job. Did not see combat and only watched Saigon from a distance. _That_ I can say is a waste of space. His wife too, that ambitious little bitch."

Logan did not want to argue. He knew that part to be the truth, although he was loathe to speak of them. He sat in silence, waiting for dusk to fall and willing himself to dream in a sleep that would never come. In the meantime, he and Chameleon watched the day pass before they acted, only amused simultaneously as they eyed the continuing action. Not too many people could get together enough and be led, rudderless. Their leader was killed and they had lost direction like a sheep loses its shepherd. Some tried holding candle vigils and others went on wailed.

Finally, after the sun went down and the last colors danced in the skies on the bowed heads below, Chameleon got up, brushing the dust off of his jacket and pulling his arms through his sleeves. "Let's go," he said to Logan.

Logan copied Chameleon's motions and followed him outside. It was a quiet night all things considering and a little too eerie for their tastes. Immediately, Chameleon grabbed Logan's hand and they disappeared, weaving through the dark alleyways to the hospital a short walk away. They then watched the doorway, studying the guards' routines and the people who entered and exited. When visiting hours ended around nine, they waited again until the guards' switches. With an opening so small to get through, the two made a run for it and entered the chlorine-smelling building and rushed to the stairwell.

By the time the pair made it to the basement, they reappeared. Quickly, they searched for a fuse box and did not stop until an hour later, when they managed to find a small closet-like room containing what they needed. Logan sliced them with abandon, allowing the sparks to fly and then the lights to dim and then go out. Above their heads on the next floor, alarms were sounded by the sentries. If they had a chance, they had to finish the ghastly deed.

"Get to his room," Chameleon ordered sharply.

"I would allow you the honor," Logan replied. "It would be best."

"What you are _is_ the best," Chameleon pointed out urgently. "It's also not so nice, or so you keep saying. You killed the root, now get its head. Best I can do is stick around and make sure nobody follows you. If you can believe this, I think you have a bigger beef with Peter Ellis than I do."

Logan did not agree. Granted, he had seen the results of Peter's work over the years, especially what had happened to Ororo, and he was forever angry over it. However, Chameleon would have a better reason. The man orchestrated several assaults to his family over the years, moved and tortured Jay and even tried his best to control the country (and Chameleon) through his favorite channel, the secret police. No, Logan did not keep qualified. He had done enough today.

Another man yelled out above them that there might be intruders. "Go!" Chameleon urged. "We've got no time!"

This time, Logan wasn't going to fight the principle of this matter. He fled, tracing his way back through the stairwell to the main floor. From there, he stalked in the shadowy corners as men passed him, all of them intent on finding what happened and why. He waited until they left and took a few steps to the front counter to the nurses' station, reading through the new arrivals and room numbers. He found out where Peter Ellis was and ran for the opposite stairwell, racing to the sixth floor. When he arrived in the black hallway, he had to stand back on the landing and peek through the doorway to check if he was clear.

 _Too many men._

Logan counted at least six uniforms, all with guns. They stood over one room at the end of the hallway, although two or three would occasionally slip away and do a full circle around the floor. It seemed too easy and the plan too simple. Logan only pulled the fire alarm behind him and rushed to greet the trouble. He unleashed his claws and grabbed each person that came his way, five in total, slicing through. The last one tried shooting and was soon left unconscious next to the doorway, a bloodied face and a broken weapon a gift from Logan.

Free for a few minutes, Logan entered the hospital room. He almost gagged at the smell, remembering how much he hated the stench of a decaying body, and inched forward. Peter Ellis laid there, aware of his surrounding, but disfigured. His feet had been bound and raised to speed his healing, but the rest of his body had been casted in pasty clothing. His face was the only thing that remained opened, bruised and bloodied from a rally that transformed into a riot. He noticed Logan quickly through his beady eyes though, smiling even if it hurt.

"You have returned," Peter croaked.

"To finish a job," Logan answered. He wasn't going to make this long.

"You usually do," Peter said, laughing harder. "You always returned for more."

"I'm not here to talk." Logan was final about that.

Peter saw the determination on Logan's face and blanches, his laughter halted. " _No_."

Logan drew closer. Peter was so attached to his bed and the tubes that he almost strangled himself in a vain effort to run away. In his efforts, he managed to fall off of his bed and sit up, but that caused him so much pain that he screamed for someone for help his limp limbs work, desperately attempting to use other means to delay the inevitable. Since Logan had taken care of the immediate threat and the guards were not around and awake, Peter was alone.

The Ellis cousin realized that too late, finally scrambling to his feet in a mad rush. This caused him to collapse again, this time against his IV pole. The large vial crashed to the floor, liquid spilling and soaking the back of his clothes. Shards entered his back, causing Peter to howl more in pain.

Again, it was too simple. Logan picked Peter up with one hand by the shirt collar. He heard some whimpering noises and ignored it, even going as far as kicking Peter in the stomach when he relieved himself on his gown. Around Logan though, time slowed down and the lights outside grew brighter, alighting the insignificant room. The military was coming and they were here. It was a matter of finishing the mission and getting out alive. There was no time to waste.

"Please, _please_ ," Peter begged. "I'll give you anything. _Anything!_ I'll do anything for you! Money, jewels, glory, power…it's all yours! I don't want it anymore. Please, spare me, an innocent man!"

"Not this time, bub," Logan replied, baring his claws. He did not think Peter so guiltless and drew the silver tips back in a dramatic flair.

The end came for Peter Ellis anyway.


	44. Onto Promises and Determination

The trip back to Canada and the warm and wonderful reunion of those they left behind had been a blur. Danielle hardly remembered the long drive back and the motions they took to ensure their safety across the border. After all, out there, it had been chaos. The military was closing in on the last pockets of resistance and literally killing everything and everyone that stayed. She did not know what happened to Mary or her husband or even Peter and did not care to ponder it. Roger had opted not to say anything anyway, growling under his breath as they switched from one vehicle to another and showed their ID cards until they pulled into a quaint neighborhood and slid into a hidden driveway.

Very few had survived and were not in captivity, Danielle noted as she entered and soon sat in what was to be her bedroom at the safe house. It was small and comfortable, reminding her of Hank's little place in Westchester, and it would be her home for some time to come. There was no way for her to live in the United States anytime soon lest she be branded as a traitor. However, there was something she could do and she could hardly stand back and allow it to continue.

Leon Ellis had spread his system far and wide and wielded more influence than she thought possible. Now, his followers had held mutant prisoners, children too, and that was something she could not tolerate. She had an idea of where they were held. The only thing she needed to do was persuade someone… _anyone_ …that they need to go back and rescue them. Doubting that was going to happen, Danielle instead concentrated on what her circumstances were and thought.

The first night of her freedom in over five years…it was a strange concept. Frightening too. Danielle laid down on her bed, her arms stretched out to the edges and her feet dangling off of the blanketed covers, and wondered what was next and how she would proceed. She needed her children. She needed her family and friends freed. She alone was not the only victim of this and hardly should have been picked up. Last time, she has been last and that was the way it should have been, now and always.

However, she had to hold onto promises and her own determination. Magneto had given her one. He did not join them on their journey to Canada, deciding instead to run off on his own, weak as he was, to find the Ellis children. There was no doubt that their father had a plan to keep them in a secluded location in case things did not work out and they had to leave the premises. They were the highest prize after all, Danielle knew bitterly, even if her brother had been the key to her and vice versa. In contrast, they would be the focus of any insurrections and resurrections. They would also be the hope of the next generation.

Danielle soon sensed Hank in the doorway. She bounced back up immediately, opening her eyes to his flurry blue form before her. She nodded assent so that he could enter. He obliged, sitting on the bed next to her and putting an awkward, yet reassuring arm around her shoulders. Danielle flinched, not used to having someone touch her so gently, and tried her best to smile.

"Logan and Chameleon are not back yet," Hank revealed, not wanting to allow Danielle more information than she needed, although he was certain that she would obtain some if she really wanted to. However, he also knew that had been through enough hell and that would put salt in some old wounds. "I'm sure they'll return shortly."

"It is what it is." Danielle did not particularly care. In five years, her love for Logan had been totally forgotten and stashed away in the most forbidden part of her mind, thinking that she would never see him again. She could do without news of her father. Chameleon was a different story and one that she did not care to contemplate.

"They're expected back soon." Hank wanted to tempt Danielle into thinking happier things, but he saw that it was not working. Instead, he tried another tactic. "What are your plans now that you're free?"

"Doing what is right," Danielle replied vaguely. She was not blurting out her working plans yet.

Hank was confused. "What would that be?"

"If you felt the need to redeem yourself, Hank, would you do it?"

"Find the activity, person or item that would reverse the guilt. It's very Catholic, Danielle. I'm surprised. Never expected this out of you."

"No, no, not that sort of guilt, Hank. It's righting the wrong."

"That is an admission of guilt in a manner. You feel obligated to reverse what has conspired."

Danielle sighed in exasperation. You don't understand."

"No, I don't," Hank admitted. "You want to elaborate?"

"Not yet." The Ellis widow seemed a little anxious and mysterious about the strange conversation. "I think you'll find out soon."

"Nothing rash, I would hope?"

"I can't promise that."

Now, it was Hank's turn to be a little frustrated. "What do you mean by that?"

"It's a dangerous world out there, Hank. Without danger, it would be too easy."

"If you're thinking about going out there, Danielle, you can't –"

"Not yet," Danielle interrupted in a reassuring way. "I think we'd work out a plan by then…right? If we were going anywhere?"

Hank looked at Danielle suspiciously. "Yes…why, yes, we would."

Stretching and making an excuse about managing dinner, Hank stood up and left, waving a farewell to Danielle. However, the younger woman had a scheme in mind now, working out the mechanics and her patience. She was willing to keep it a secret for the time being, so much so that even Xavier would not suspect a thing. All she needed to do was bid her time and wait unwearyingly. She would blindly go through the usual motions from everyone, enduring even the most parental of lecture, especially from Mae, and live life as she should. Then, when everyone would think that she was compliant, she would leave.

But it would not be to stake things out on her own and to abandon her family. No, it would be to rescue the people she left behind, to complete the circle. For Danielle was not a woman who would just idly stand by and listen for news of them. Hell, even if she did not get along with some of them, she was not willing to allow a perfectly good team to be decimated by government channels. The military was not willing to check who was who and has knocked out thousands (if not millions) of people already and murdered without checking for friends or foes. Danielle could not stand to hear of more death. She was so tired of it, especially of the names of those she never met, victims of her husband's purges.

The assassin inside of Danielle had been awakened. The years of bargaining for her life and her sons and utter compliance were now over and she no longer lived in fear of the future since that would be ruined and had been taken away from her. She lost her children and her brother. She lost her sanity, dignity and even her pride. She was now cold and calculating and could not be stopped this time.

It was for her to take action. There was no time to waste.

~00~

Mae was a little more than concerned. After almost two weeks, things had quieted down, although it had been a strain to keep track of those who had been picked up and needed her attention. It was an around-the-clock job to ensure that they were fed, clothed and had medical care. Even though Gil decided to help her, there had been no relief in sight. With Roger and Teller so busy and trying to track down Chameleon and Logan (since they disappeared off the map), Mae was always on the run and always without sleep and comfort.

However, there was one thing that worried her the most. It was Danielle.

Mae had to admit that Danielle came back cool, calm and collective. After her initial shock, especially over losing Michael and Riley, Danielle had been very quiet… _too_ quiet by Mae's standards and she had known Danielle since she was born. She obeyed Mae's every command, said nothing more than what was asked of her and even inquired casually about certain things, like where her friends and family were and what they were doing about it. Danielle was not ready to see Fiona or Matthew yet, although she promised Mae that it would happen, and kept to herself more often than anything else.

 _Strange and Curious._ Mae decided that it was time to see what Xavier thought of the situation. On her lunch break, she visited him in his designated office.

Xavier was mildly surprised for a telepath and invited Mae to sit down before his desk. Mae did so, looking around the room. It was smaller than the last at the mansion, she noted, and the boxes from the previous household had yet to be unpacked. Xavier did not carry much, not since they left New York the second time, and chose his habitual things carefully. After all, he packed lightly, carrying only the most important papers and maybe some books he held dear to his heart. Xavier was not much for physical items, but his heart was always for his students and his memories.

"What brings you here, Mae?" Xavier asked, although the nurse suspected that he knew the answer anyway and was being polite.

Mae took a deep breath, releasing it like a sigh. "I am worried."

"We all are," Xavier pointed out gently.

"This time, I think it's legitimate," Mae said, feeling frantic and foolish all at once. "It's Danielle."

Xavier was mildly amused, tapping his fingers together like a series of drums. Danielle's name had been on everyone's lips for years (both positive and negative) and he found it predictable and funny that she was still a topic of discussion. "What about her?"

"She's been…I don't know… _busy_ , I guess the word is. She hasn't been talking and has ignored even direct family members."

"Danielle does that when she is upset. It has been…a few overwhelming weeks for her and it would be understandable if her mind was preoccupied."

"Professor, I think it's you who is not understanding. I think she is planning something stupid."

"Like what, Mae?"

"I don't quite know. I can't put my finger on it exactly, but my instinct is telling me to watch out. But you know her! When she wants something, she is always going what she's told so that nobody suspects a thing or would allow her anything."

"Danielle also focuses on something to distract herself, Mae. She needs to keep herself from losing control."

Mae felt like she was slapped in the face, she felt that insulted by the lack of concern. "Charles, I still don't think you're comprehending what I'm saying. Hank told me of their conversation a couple of weeks ago. He thinks that she's up to something too. Just the way she was talking, in cryptic words that mean a million things…even saying that she can't promise not to do anything risky."

Xavier wanted to laugh, his mouth twitching into a smirk of amusement. "Danielle is always thinking something up. I am certain that she was during her last incarceration and would have done anything she could to escape." He sighed. "Mae, your husband and her brother trained her as an assassin. She has the classic symptoms of Stockholm Syndrome and will stand with her dead husband, but she also can work her way through every situation if she needed to."

"What are we going to do about it?"

"Mae, your concern for Danielle means well and I am sure she knows how much you love and care for her, especially since her mother had killed herself and she has nobody else to turn to. However, I think Danielle planning something out might be a good thing."

"Why is that?"

"Well, if you think about it, Mae, Danielle is an independent woman, capable of many rash actions and thoughts. She might have something in mind that would help us."

"For what? And who exactly?"

"That is a question we need to answer ourselves. What has Danielle been inquiring about?"

Mae had to think about it for a minute before answering. "Everyone who's been missing or might be dead. I thought she was out of her mind when she asked about Scott and Jean. I mean, she and Jean were a little close, but I didn't think it was enough to be questioning about Jean's other half."

Xavier folded his hands together finally, trying not to show Mae how tickled he was. "Go on."

"Well, she's also been writing something," Mae continued. "Usually, I catch her jotting things down after she's done her investigating."

"Maybe it's a story or some poetry?" Xavier suggested. "Danielle does like writing."

"I doubt it," Mae repeated stoutly. "I think she's up to something and I need to get to the bottom of it."

"Mae, I can always question her myself," Xavier offered, feeling quite exasperated that the nurse did not want to let this one go. "I don't think she can get past even me."

The master spy's wife pursed her lips. "If you feel that way, Charles, then you can certainly see if you can get more information than I can. She isn't going to say anything out loud to anyone."

Xavier nodded his assent. Mae got up and went to the doorway, calling out for Danielle across the house. She had been talking with Hank about something (Mae could not tell what and did not care to) and soon came running, pen and notepad in hand. She entered the room and closed the door behind her. Danielle allowed Mae to seat herself back in the same chair she was in, choosing to stand behind the nurse in utter impassiveness.

"Anything the matter?" Danielle asked softly. She appeared so innocent, Xavier noted, and it was the perfect mask that hid her distress.

"Mae was wondering what you were writing," Xavier responded a little more joyfully than he wanted, trying to hide the situation himself still. "It wasn't important. She was only curious and expressing how wonderful it was to me."

"Really?" Danielle raised an eyebrow, something Mae pivoted her head back to view. The young widow did not sound enthused. "Well, I have been finalizing something silly I started when I was a kid. I also picked up drawing. It's not great, but I can share."

Danielle bypassed Mae and handed the notepad over to Xavier. From there, he scanned the documents before him, flipping through words and pictures. He had to admit that Danielle was a good artist even if she did not believe so. Some of her drawings had a dark side to them though, most of them images form her life before Leon Ellis. Some of them were people, others maybe places in Salem Center (stetched from memory) or the mansion. There were also a few that described her life with her husband and in-laws, a lot of them rooms and window views. The last were her children, from infants to toddlers and even older children…or as much as she saw them anyway.

The final page was something written a long time ago, Xavier remembered, or at least some of it was. He read through it again to reassure himself most of all that it was just a poem and that she meant nothing significant by it except to explain some of her feelings. He squinted to read the tiny print and even showed it to Mae, whose curiosity was hardly sated.

 _She's watching the taxi driver,  
_ _He pulls away, pulls away…  
_ _She's been locked up inside  
_ _Her apartment a hundred days._

 _She says, "Yeah, he's still coming,  
_ " _Just a little bit late.  
_ " _He got stuck at the laundromat,  
_ " _Washing his cape…"_

 _She's just watching the clouds  
_ _Roll by and they spell  
_ _Her name like Lois Lane.  
_ _And she smiles…  
_ _Oh, the way she smiles…_

 _She's talking to angels,  
_ _Counting the stars,  
_ _Making a wish on a passing car.  
_ _She's dancing with strangers,  
_ _Falling apart, waiting for  
_ _Superman to pick her up  
_ _In his arms, yeah..._

There were more verses, but Xavier did not want to pry anymore than he wished to. He handed everything back to Danielle with a smile. "Thank you," he said, wanting to praise his former student no matter how old she was. "You're quite the artist. Writing and illustrating are talents not a lot of people have and half don't have both."

Danielle grinned, something that seemed infectious and touched the pair near her. Mae did the same, wanting to play the part she sought to act, and echoed the same sentiments. However, when it was obvious that they were finished and would say no more (even Mae would not), Danielle left, leaving the entryway closed still, thinking they would need privacy. They did indeed. Mae glanced at Xavier, unsure of what to think since he appeared to be thinking.

"Do you believe me now?" Mae demanded, thinking that the surface was not enough to crack through Danielle's tough exterior. For all Mae knew, Xavier fell for the show and was thinking her insane for bringing the problem up in the first place.

After a few minutes of silence, Xavier spoke. "Yes," he confirmed. "Yes, I do. I also feel that she's planning something son…and that we need to keep an eye out for her."


	45. Gone in the Whispering Dawn

It took about a week of traveling around military installations and other city purges, but Logan and Chameleon eventually made it to the Canadian border. Heading northwest back into the British Columbia, they followed the usual trail back to their safe house and arrived in the afternoon, tired and dirty from their long journey. They knocked the password against the vinyl siding and were let in by Mae, who seemed genuinely surprised to see them, Chameleon especially.

Mae closed the door behind her quickly before the neighbors saw the company. "About time you two came home," she said in her usual annoyed tone. "I would ask how it went, but by the way things were said on the news, the mission was a success."

"Better than that," Chameleon replied, but nothing more. He wasn't going to reveal much else, especially to the sister of Ellis. Even if Mae had hardly spoken to her brother in years, there would always be bitterness and grief in her heart about him.

Logan kept his mouth shut too. He appeared grim and tired though, which was strange for him since he never was either (Mae chalked it up to emotional exhaustion, but even so). However, over the years, the nurse had noticed that he grew older and less tolerate of things and people, especially in the last five. It had been an ordeal to watch him remember who and what he was and then realize that he lost the love of his life and she could be dead. Then, disappearing for some weeks at a time, he made himself comfortable being the man he used to be, even if he never showed his feelings.

Mae also knew what the military asked of Chameleon and she did not mourn the loss of her brother that much. Never would she cry over her dead brother and cousins. Indeed, she despised her brother ever since they were young and had hated how he tried to kill her for being different, a mutant with fantasy-like powers. He was worse when he came home from Vietnam and then began a campaign of terror and shame that ended a short time ago and on a hot summer day.

The Ellis name was smeared, she knew, and that Leon Ellis' sons would suffer the most if they were found. They could be representatives of hatred and even hope, depending on the group, and were better off dead politically (a sad thought, especially for Mae). Even so, if Danielle was found as well, the military could make up charges that would condemn her to death and a horrible one too. The widow was not guilty of anything, but it would be easy to blame her for something she could not control.

 _And they never did a thing except keep the name of Ellis. My parents must be spinning in their graves now._

"Danielle is here," Mae reminded Chameleon.

The Vietnam veteran shrugged his shoulders in indifference. "So what, Mae? When has that bothered me?"

"Well, you can try to avoid her. I don't think she wants to see you right now."

"My own _daughter_? You're kidding me, right?"

"No. Logan included. Stay away. She's not well."

"What do you mean that she's not well?"

Mae crossed her arms stubbornly. "It's what I said it is. Now, off with the two of you. Basement is still open for residence. Your things are down there anyway."

Logan still said nothing. However, Chameleon grumbled and cursed under his breath though as they dragged themselves through the living room and swung a left, heading down into the dark underground through its ominous and adjustable opening. At the bottom of the stairs, Chameleon flipped the light on, blinking to adjust. Logan passed him and settled on a couch that he claimed as his own the day they arrived and laid down, stretching his limbs. He did not dare to close his eyes again. He did not want to sleep just yet and wanted to enjoy ignorance just a while longer.

The events of the past week made Logan so wary of his slumbers. While he was awake, he was able to keep the memories of that day at bay, choosing to keep moving forward and to forget the incidents. In his gloomy surreal environment, he was unable to take command of what happened and who he saw, struggling to get away from the black and mundane that made him face his past. In the here and now, he would be able to listen to Chameleon…and perhaps rush to his fitful vices in a silent abyss.

When Chameleon knew that they were alone and that Mae was out of earshot, he fumed some more. "The nerve of that damned woman! A friend of my wife for many years, who's known us for longer and even some, and there she is, telling me whether or not I can see my own daughter. My _baby_! I've been visiting her without her notice for several years now, even when she was married. What's another time visiting? She doesn't need to know anyway."

"Something might be wrong," Logan pointed out. He did not want to mention to Chameleon that his own heart was beating pretty fast at the mention of Danielle's presence. He did not want his hopes dashed.

"Mae telling me that and not being specific means something." Again, Chameleon cursed Roger's wife to hell, but it was louder this time so that she could hear him. When he ceased, he sighed. "There must be. I don't expect Danielle to be all bright and bushy-tailed after this ordeal. However, I can't help but be angry and helpless."

"You're the one who left her." Logan was throwing no punches on this point.

"Shannon told me to!" Chameleon protested, the truth of the matter coming out instead of the official story said by Shannon years before. Logan knew it, but it was strange coming out from Chameleon, the instigator of the initial crime. "She was going to press charges and make sure I never see Jay and Danielle again if I didn't leave the house. She didn't want to divorce me, although she gave me the choice. She loved me, but having a…an episode, I mean…and beating our only daughter was something she could not stand. So, it came to be that I decided to disappear and see the children on my own time and place."

"And in the meantime, you're running free as a bird while everyone around you is dead or dying." Logan was in no mood for confessions and most certainly did not want to hear excuses of any sort. "Your wife is also dead, bub. The past is the past. You cannot change it."

"I just wish I was with Shannon in the end." Chameleon seemed remorse about that, something Logan had not seen before. His previous statements about regret were a lie and one that Logan did not expect. "I know that Roger was part of the guards and saw it. So did Gil, that rascal who isn't even biologically related, who videotapes everything. Mae watched it on national TV, I know that much is certain. _Me_? I was away on business when I heard that Shannon had finally killed herself and my daughter had to see it."

"You can't protect her forever," Logan said. "I'm sure Danielle can't even protect herself from herself."

Chameleon laughed, his mood switching in an instant. "So much like Shannon too. However, I'm just surprised that she and Jay decided not to take the easy road out and save themselves the trouble."

Silence grew between the two of them. Logan did not want to bring up what times used to be and decided that it was better that way. Chameleon was growing sentimental in his dotage and wanting to physically be near Danielle did not seem a great idea since she was supposedly not well and was not mentally prepared for the man who had made her suffer for years. It was possible Mae was protecting her that way, but even so, Danielle would have come out, anger in her eyes.

Logan shook his head free of all thoughts about the woman he loved and her father that was full of repentance. Since he wanted to avoid conversation with Chameleon, he thought that unpacking was a good idea, although there was hardly anything left to carry around and put away at home. He had a small bag halfway filled with some clothes, cigars and the odd trinkets (the guns left at another safe house). The one that he always carried with him was the sun and moon pendants on a chain, cleaned of the blood from that horrible spring night.

The hours passed quietly. Chameleon settled down on his end of the basement, trying to see if any food was left for them. Mae was kind enough to give them some sandwich material in the refrigerator, so the Vietnam veteran made himself some dinner on a nearby table. Logan declined when offered the ingredients, choosing to relax instead and thanking Roger internally (although he hoped the master spy would never know) that they found a place with a complete basement apartment. Hands behind his head, Logan drifted off to sleep, hoping to dream unmemorable scenes and to have a peaceful few days.

The next thing Logan remembered was someone shaking him awake by the feet frantically, calling his name repeatedly. He was up in an instant, claws out and breath spiraling into uneven patterns, and only saw Hank. Catching his breath, Logan retracted them and calmed himself, feeling annoyed that he was taken from a perfectly good dream and placed back into reality. For once, he recalled the wondrous sequence like it had just happened and it was very clear too. On the other hand, he felt a little sorry for Hank, who was nervous to be downstairs and breaking news to them that was obviously catastrophic.

Behind Hank, Chameleon sluggishly came upon the scene, rubbing his eyes to wake up. "Goddammit, gotta be oh-five hundred by now. What the hell is going on, Hank?"

"Do we need to leave?" Logan was prepared to depart in an instant if need be. The panic on Hank's face seemed to indicate that kind of emergency.

Hank's face twisted into a grimace. The news was different. "We're ok for now. No, it's Danielle."

"What about her?" Chameleon's heart sank. He was alert in an instant though, ready to help his daughter any way he could.

"Danielle's gone," Hank revealed in a rush. "She left her things except for some clothes, but that's it. Charles thinks that she has been scouting for the remainder of the X-Men and found them and is on her way."

"Any way we can go after her?" Chameleon asked, his hands itching to pack himself and disappear. He was willing to go after Danielle, no matter the cost.

"Doubtful," Hank said in a low voice. As the messenger, he was expected to be attacked. "She left without a trace and there isn't a way to track her. Bed made, shoes used and hardly any clothes taken. Who knows what weapons she has on her, made or otherwise?"

Chameleon was outraged by the lack of action on everyone's part, but kept his composure. "What can we do?"

"Wait," Hank cautioned. "Charles is trying to contact her, to persuade her to get out of this folly. But let's face it. Danielle is a stubborn individual. Once she has an idea on her mind, she'll act on it. I just wish we had a plan to keep her cooped and coax her to share her schemes. However, I am sure that she would have found a way out without us and helped the others…and killed herself too."

~00~

It had been maybe seven hours since she started out on the journey south through the Canadian autumn, but Danielle knew she was on the right track and would reach her destination soon enough. Even so, she was careful not to leave anything behind that would give her away and that made her slower than normal. However, her progress had been faster than even she expected and she reached the borders to the US within a few hours and all in thanks to hitchhiking and passing undetected through military bases.

Pushing aside some trees to enter the final damp city lines, she thought. Danielle always considered it a tough job being who she was, but somebody had to do it and it wasn't going to be a team effort this time. She could no longer wait for action. She alone was capable of running out and getting this done, in order for the X-Men to be reunited.

The funny thing was, she didn't need a lot of information to track everyone down. A few tidbits here, some gossip there, and she pieced together everything and took her time preparing to advance. Her current location? Washington state, namely an extremely neglected Seattle, where one of the last pockets of resistance to the military was and where thousands of Ellis supporters mourned his loss. After the exodus out of Texas, Washington seemed to be a better home.

There was no time for shock and grief for the widow, an ironic choice to end to a marriage of convenience and then pain. That could be handled later, she mused as she squinted her eyes against the rare afternoon sun. Danielle knew that everyone needed to be freed and not just her. She also could not afford anymore innocents being killed, especially her friends and their children and many, many more. Millions had been lost already.

Slipping through some barricades unnoticed by the guards, Danielle dodged through their lights and random gunfire to locate the building she needed. Granted, she was a wanted person herself (either good or bad depending on the party), but that was another story. If she was invisible, nobody was going to find her. Any opportunity to contact her (as Xavier had tried many times already) would be detrimental to her mission. She needed to focus and keep it ahead, not on her misery and her children.

In the darkness of the alleyway, she became weak and tired suddenly. It was a symptom of being so far away from Jay and unable to communicate and connect with him and one that she hardly coped with over their separation. Indeed, it was worse in the past five years than it had when she was initially incarcerated, especially since her brother was sickly and even unable to touch her the last time they saw each other. That might have been Ellis' point, but that was not here and done with. The present required her to keep her vision to the future and for a positive outcome.

Danielle kneeled before a garbage dumpster out of sight, waiting for the wave of dizziness and nausea to pass, her mind screaming for help. There was no reply, Jay's reassuring presence nowhere nearby or unable to sense her, and it took some minutes before she was able to recover and feel confident that the episode passed for good. Once it did, which took over an hour, she stood up, adjusting and feeling no less weaker than she was before.

 _Yes, I can do this. I don't need Jay._

Using her senses, Danielle scanned the area to see if she could detect anything unusual. She continued going around the city invisible though, finding nothing except despair from the grieving followers of her dead husband. While news filtered that Peter had been killed too (and by the most despicable means, a stabbing to the neck), that had been met with little fanfare. It was Leon Ellis that these people cried over, thinking that a generation had been shot down in a single day. They were rudderless and without direction and they had nobody to lift them from the slums. All they had were prisoners and they were due to be killed soon anyway.

 _Where are they?_ This made Danielle frantic, rushing to and from the shadows until she stumbled upon a municipal building with a lot of guards.

It was obvious that she found it. Studying the area quickly, Danielle figured that she could easily come inside, but could hardly exit with her friends with a wave of the hand to the sentries. She could try and persuade them to look the other way, but it would require a lot of power and it would break her moral and ethical codes too and that would not do. However, if she went in on her own, found a way to down the power and snuck everyone out, then there might be a chance since it seemed that they never used the lights much away. Darkness was the perfect cover and one she loved to use anyway.

There was no time. Danielle counted the changing of the guards for the next few hours and worked out her plan from there, allowing herself to be visible once more. On the side, there was a doorway that nobody used and hardly looked at. In the two minutes the men were changed out, she sprinted for it invisible once more, using the side of the building to cover herself in case someone noticed anything out of the ordinary. Once she reached it, she pulled out and jiggled a hairpin to unlock it without damage. With that achieved, Danielle entered, again using her senses to find out where the fuses and wires were and then the team.

Dodging cameras that she could hardly see was the biggest challenge, although disabling them was worse and brought upon another wave of weakness. Finally, Danielle found what she was looking for on the first floor closet, flipping switches and cutting wires to the only evidence they'd have on her. Once the cameras were turned off, she was free. Making herself reappear, she grabbed for a wall, steadying herself so that she could concentrate and wipe the sweat off of her forehead. It was taking a lot of power out of her, but there wasn't a reason why she could not finish her mission. Besides, it was easy it push it all away.

Deciding that she would be worse off without the lights, she made her way through the cold hallways from the bottom up with a dim illumination over her head, trying each doorway to find any clue concerning the whereabouts of her friends and family. Once she realized that the two floors open to her didn't reveal anything except for confused and uncoordinated men (since most of them were a bit high on marijuana, their only vice), she figured that there were hiding something.

 _Why put people somewhere if there is nothing in front of one's nose?_

There had to be something else, Danielle knew. Retracing her steps as she hid from the guards and kept to the shadows, she thought back to the places she tried and hit upon an idea about her lack of discovery. One of those doors must lead to another room or a basement level area, most likely the latter, and her senses might not pick up on it if it was well-hidden and tucked away deeply. If this used to be a police station, then cells would be in an underground location.

The dictator's determined widow again tried every knob and soon looked again at each one in a different light, eying the walls and corners with suspicion. Checking carefully this time, Danielle soon found what she was looking for in a panel located next to an entranceway's wooden frame. Faint voices echoed from behind the walls of one corner spot and cool air pooled around the floor. It could have been more guards, but Danielle doubted that very much. They sounded like children being admonished.

Glancing left and right, she entered and slapped the button, startled by the whoosh of a large section of the wall sliding to one side, revealing another locked door. She then pulled out her hairpin and slipped inside before someone noticed her, unsurprised when they closed themselves behind her. Seeing stairs forward, she cautiously walked down, avoiding creaks. Once at the bottom, she followed her senses once more, finding prison cells over flooded with people and all of them (save for the children) she knew.

 _Bingo!_

"Jean!" Danielle greeted when she saw the redheaded woman, holding onto two children tightly as Scott stood watch. "I think I can say I'm so glad to see you."

" _Danielle_?!" Jean could hardly believe her eyes, blinking a few time and even trying to gauge Danielle through their minds. "It can't be."

"The one and the same." Danielle tried the lock, ignoring Scott's annoyed look. "Let me get you all out of here and get you over the border. It's a bit of a ride, but I think we can make it in time."

" _Think_ we can?" Scott seemed concerned, but his tone conveyed that he was also being a smartass and wanted to take charge. "And in time?"

"Before they catch us," Danielle replied, managing to open the cold bars and allowing the first group out.

"You've got no plan?!" Scott was incredulous and shocked, angrier than anything else.

"We'll think of one together as we go along," Danielle said confidentially as she fiddled with the second cage, her back to Scott. "However, we're in this together. I came here alone, I am leaving with our group and I am nominating you the new leader. Come on, Scott. Lead on. Show me your stuff."


	46. An Emotionless Failure

It had been a few days and nobody had been able to locate Danielle, not even their allies at the borders or in the US and Canada too. Everyone tried their best to use their abilities to track her down, but to no avail since she had disappeared off of the map. She left nothing behind to indicate any progress and was not answering any messages telepathically. It was almost like she did not exist, placing a permanent block around herself so that she could not be found, just like the ghost that she was.

This worried Chameleon the most. While Xavier and Hank had been confident that she would return alive (after all, they had a little faith in her despite their fears and their helplessness), the Mitchell father paced around the house, mostly in the basement. Mae had grown tired of his rantings after a while and had to persuade him more than once not to go out there and Roger tried to create tasks for the veteran to do, all in order to keep him busy. However, even Chameleon could not run on chores and sleep throughout the day. He was guilty at not rescuing his son and grandsons, even if his daughter-in-law was still in residence and anxiously awaiting for the rest of the family to return. Losing his daughter seemed to be the worst he would endure.

Eventually, Logan tired of listening to the rantings too. He and Chameleon may have shared the basement, but being buddies in that aspect was exhausting and quite irritating, almost to the point of dealing with Scott (and that alone grated on Logan's nerves even thinking about it, like nails to a chalkboard). One night, as Chameleon swept the cement floors for what seemed to be the millionth time and then dusted the small windows, Logan decided he needed a break and a little sanity. He climbed upstairs, immediately heading to Xavier's office. He knocked on the closed door and received a positive answer to enter.

Logan closed the door behind him. Xavier had been writing something in a file (Logan could not see which one), but stopped when he saw Logan. He grinned, possibly knowing already what had conspired downstairs, but the way he was beaming indicated some good news. If it was about Danielle, Logan would jump for joy and all of it concerning Chameleon having definite news. Honestly, he did not want to get involved otherwise. Love was a dangerous game and he tired of playing it years ago. Best not to put your heart on your sleeve and to get on with life.

"Jean and Scott have been in communication," Xavier revealed. "They are safe over the border, all thanks to Danielle helping them. They managed to leave their prison just before the military moved in."

"She did rescue them." It was more a statement than a question. It was also one of amazement, but that did not last long.

"Yes, she did," Xavier said. "It was tough, Logan. It was a matter of mere minutes before the city was shut down."

A shudder involuntarily went down Logan's back. "How long before we see them?"

"Maybe a few hours, nothing more. Last Roger saw them, which was an hour ago, they were a couple of towns away. They could have stopped to rest. A lot of them are wounded and sick, which is why it took so long to leave."

"Good. We have some time to talk."

"What about?"

"Chameleon."

Xavier almost laughed, masking it behind an exasperated sigh that was paternal. He never liked to speak about the Vietnam veteran much (he attributed it to Chameleon and the price paid for his presence) and preferred that Logan get off the topic. "Logan, I cannot control him more than you can. I also cannot tell him to come and go as he pleased."

"How did you find him?" Logan was curious, recalling the stories of old. He thought them exaggerated sometimes and often contradictory depending on the person and their perspective.

"Chameleon had been a rogue of some sort for several years," Xavier explained, not feeling up to telling past stories. "I met him on and off when he was a child and then did not bother when I was at the university. During the sixties, before he was drafted into the Army, he was much like Roger, a frequent delinquent and a troublemaker and more often my eyes with Roger. When he met Shannon as a young teenager, the two fell in love and he attempted to be a better man. Jay was born when Shannon was almost eighteen, I believe. Chameleon, even though he was overseas and denied his time for leave, was twenty. He did not meet Jay until he turned almost a year old."

"So, Roger used him?"

"In his own manner, yes. Roger has a way with people though, as you understand. The two had also been competing with each other, so much so that they became friends in the end, much like myself and Erik. Roger stood for Chameleon at his wedding and Chameleon urged Roger to marry Mae."

"I don't quite remember it that way."

"You were not there for a lot of things, Logan, but that is your life."

"I tried to change that."

Xavier nodded evenly. "So you have. It does not mean that you cannot change your feelings."

Logan did not want to take the bait this time, even if Xavier meant well by the statement and only wanted to help bring up some important things they had yet to discuss. However, that had not been his aim when entering Xavier's office. Armed with the good news for the time being, Logan left without another word. He then decided that staying in the basement was a better idea than meeting the group coming back since it was best to be alone. He would only have to deal with Chameleon and his lunacy and that was the alternative than facing his feelings. He was not ready to see Jean or Scott or anyone else yet.

 _Danielle…_

Immediately, Logan wiped away the pictures of a redheaded woman and settled in the cellar, watching from his perch on the couch his surroundings. Chameleon was still cleaning, this time wiping down the bar counter in the far corner. He did not bother with conversation, which was relieving and confirmed that this was the best choice. Logan was about to open his mouth about what Xavier had mentioned and soon decided against it. That would get Chameleon's hopes up about Danielle. Besides, Xavier had also added that there were a lot of sick and wounded. If Logan said that, the anxiety would get worse for the veteran. It was sound to wait.

That alone did not take long. As promised, towards the evening hours, a parade of freed prisoners entered through the back door, undetected by the neighbors as they quietly slipped into a relatively safety net. The noise above their heads was unmistakable though. Chameleon perked up even, racing to the first floor and slamming the door shut behind him. Logan stayed put, reaching for a bottle in the refrigerator and smoking a cigar. It won't be long before his curiosity and hands were needed. It seemed apt to take advantage of the minutes given to him.

Caught in his own deep musing (and most of it grabbing at unremarkable memories), Logan almost did not catch Chameleon yelling about something upstairs. Startled, since Chameleon sounding panicked meant trouble (and the veteran rarely felt that), Logan stood up, placing the bottle on a side table and his cigar in the ashtray, whittled away to a stub. He took a plunge and decided that it was time to peek. He might be needed then.

It was chaos and all of it nothing more than a blur. As Logan leaned against the basement doorway and made himself as small as he could, he observed the sights and smells of a household on the verge of losing control. Hot water steamed from bowls passing in the hands of anyone who could help. Childish coughing echoed through the hallways and on the second floor. There was blood everywhere too, but where it was located, Logan did not want to sniff out. It was from what seemed to be a million people and all of them dying around him…

" _That's enough!"_

But the crying…oh, the _weeping_! There were frantic parents everywhere, most of them spilling their blood on the floor. Then, the children whimpered in fear, unsure of where they were and adding to the hysteria. Logan could not manage that. He was about to turn around to avoid it when he saw another familiar redhead, clenching a young sleeping child in her arms. Logan had to rub his eyes a few times, unable to believe what he was seeing. It was Jean!

Jean noticed Logan too, weaving through a zigzag of people in order to reach him and not trip over something or someone. By then, Logan decided that his homey crypt was calmer and that he would accomplish little by standing there. He went right back to his sanctuary and Jean followed, ensuring their privacy as well (if that was what they wanted). The child she was holding was still sleeping in sweet innocence, which seemed to be a relief, all things considered. Logan did not appreciate she was in-between the long-lost woman, but accepted that Jean was in charge of the kid, choosing to leave the cigar smoldering and the cold bottle hidden to one side. He sat back down on the couch, staring at Jean in anticipation.

"Well?" Logan barked, much louder than even he expected.

Although outwardly calm, Jean jumped a little, startled. "Hello to you too, Logan," she said coolly to cover her expected show. She was trying to keep her wild emotions reined together.

"I would have expected you to say how great it is to see me." Logan wasn't throwing any punches. He wanted the formalities done and over with before he went back to work, whatever that may be.

"Yes," Jean admitted slowly. "I suppose I can say that I am happy to see you, but you aren't, especially seeing my daughter. Wash away that innocent blood yet?"

 _Bitter, aren't we, Jean?_ Logan wondered what changed. Jean may be ten years older than when he last saw her, but she was now a hardened woman, shaped by many years of hiding, imprisonment and now motherhood.

"Let's just get down to business," Logan offered instead, albeit it was kinder than his initial greeting. "What's going on?"

Jean shrugged her shoulders, readjusting the girl so that she was more comfortable. "We're here. Waiting to go home. Hope that the new government will welcome us."

"That's obvious."

"Then don't ask me questions. Mind your own business. Seems like you've been better at staying alone anyway."

The comment stung. "What do you want me to do then, Jean? Make myself a nurse?"

"You'd be better at it than sitting here, smoking and drinking," Jean retorted. "We have several children up there, most of them without parents. Some parents are without children. All of them are so lost after years spent without the peaceful lives they deserve. _You_? You…"

"Been livin' from day to day," Logan said. "Can't say I wasn't busy."

"You're cold and callous. You don't care anymore."

"Sometimes, people like us can't afford to be."

"Oh, really? People like _us_? And what is that, Logan? Mutants? Or guiltless assassins? Regardless of what you are, you can't escape who you are. You want to hear about Danielle? The woman you love to distraction? Or, I should say, the person you used to love?"

Logan said nothing. He could not. Hearing the name sent a jolt through his body similar to a stab in the back. The old memories washed over him and he had to do everything in his power to push them away. _Loved_? That was hardly the word for it. Even after five years, Logan could say that he still had feelings for Danielle. He saved her, made sure that nobody would touch her again, and left her in the aftermath of the widowhood he endowed upon her. And this is the thanks he got for it? A lecture from Jean Summers, of all people?

"So you won't admit it." Jean pursed her lips together. "Fine. Be that way, Logan."

Jean stomped up the stairs, going as far as waking her daughter up and shushing her harshly, and slammed the door behind her. It echoed through the basement and into Logan's cringing ears. It shouldn't have bothered him, but it did. He didn't know what merited this behavior from Jean other than his answers. It was very apparent that she was angry though and that would bring more visitors soon. Jean was unlikely to be the only candidate in chastising him.

The next had been Alex. It was some hours after Jean had left, when midnight had trickled into the early hours before dawn. He was tired, Logan noted, especially after a long journey from the US to Canada. He probably helped with settling people down and taking charge when his brother was busy elsewhere. Sweat lined what was left of his hairline (it was shorter than what Logan saw last) and blood dotted his clothes here and there. Sinking into the couch, he put his head into his hands and shook it.

Logan was about to say something about getting off of someone's personal space, but decided against it. Alex was overwhelmed by the events that happened in the last few days that it was possible that arguing would be the last thing he'd like (especially if his military training kicked in, something Logan did not want to trigger). Still, Logan felt a little lost and invaded, even by someone who had been around him for decades now, admonishing and teasing and even being a parent when nobody would.

Eventually, Alex looked up at Logan with new eyes, dark and haunted. "You have no idea how lucky you are," he plainly stated.

"People tell me that all the time," Logan growled, not in the mood for another discussion about how much of an asshole he was. Ok, yeah, he was one, but that was not the point.

"Logan, it was a madhouse out there," Alex continued without appearing to be listening to Logan's previous comment. "You have no idea it was it was like. Being picked up and you don't know who it is since Ellis was on the run…and then figuring that it was something to do with Ellis in the first place and it's just his followers who are bitter about the ending…and trying to see how unstructured we were and why. We were prisoners for some years now, something I would never wish on anyone else. And you… _you_ can worry all you want about Danielle, but you gotta admit that it was daring for her to run back through the lines and get us all out even if her face was unwise to show. We would have died otherwise."

"Military killing everyone in sight still?"

"You bet. Without her, we would not be here, Logan. Consider yourself a fortunate man to not see that. You would not have had to go through that hell and then run back here."

"I had my own journeys, bub. Not as pretty."

Alex barked what might have been laughter. "So I've heard. Jean wasn't sympathetic, huh?"

"No. I wasn't nice to her either."

"Ahh, well. My sister-in-law isn't always with all of the facts and allows herself to be ruled with her emotions. Gotta also be because she hasn't pried in so long. However, the next step would be to forget that. I want to wait a few days and see about heading back down there."

"Why?"

"Wouldn't you want a shot at those groups?"

"Not really."

"Difference between you and me then, Logan. I think I can work without you if given the chance though. Got a few people interested after they recovered that are better equipped than me. I mean, those kids you all brought in…they want an adventure and to settle back in New York because they loved the peace so much. Well, except they're not kids anymore. They're in their early twenties and very much in need of some closure. On the other side, we've Storm and Matthew and those two are in, no matter what. Cannot believe the change over them. Apart for years, together for a few more, and still bashful."

"Danielle?"

"Out for now. Surprised that you're asking actually. If you want to know, she was shot in the shoulder on the way back. It's nothing serious, but she soldiered on. Besides, I think she has a new project on her hands."

"Oh?"

"A kid, maybe thirteen, fourteen years old at the most, named Devon Williamson. Claims that he had been following Danielle for years and had been homeless and wishing for someone to notice him. I doubt it, but with all of the displaced kids in the past few years, it's possible his wish upon a star came true. He needed a home and latched onto the first person he could, which was her. A little old for a parent because of how worldly he is, but he needed guidance and helped her get people out. I just don't know where he came from though, but I am willing to bet his parents randomly had him, a mutant to humans, and was thrown out of the house for safety's sake."

"Was the kid with you in prison?"

"That's the weird part, Logan. Nobody remembers. We had been treated like cattle and hardly knew who was where and why except those who mattered the most. In my case, I had been with Jean, Scott and the kids and Lorna and her family. Devon could have been part of a group of kids picked up and used after his parents tossed him out. He's roughed up badly though because he's just like us. He's a mutant that can control the ground tremors. It left me in awe the first time I witnessed that."

"What's that got to do with his situation now?"

"Well, Danielle was a sucker for him, babied him and everything when she could. Without her children, I guess she needed someone else to help and that her motherly feelings had to be dumped somewhere. Scott sure as hell wasn't letting her near my niece and nephew."

Logan did not want to hear any more about Danielle. "How's Lorna and Wanda? Their mother?"

"Still the same, I guess," Alex replied, rubbing his chin now. "Wanda is elated to be with Peter and Magda is just happy to be out of harm's way. Lorna? You don't wanna know. I sure as hell don't want to."

"Running away again?"

"About to, old man. So am I. Trying to keep her roped and if not, I'll be off. She's got a secret and I don't tell what it is. She's so damned antsy that I might not be able to track her."

"How many kids does Jean and Scott anyway? It might be a reason for her to stay and keep occupied."

"Two, a boy and a girl. Jean wasn't going to let them take Cable and Rachel away from her and Scott. She fought hard to keep her family together. She even volunteered herself and Scott if those fools tried separating her from those two. Scott wasn't much better either, arguing like he did. Caused him a lot of fights he could not win."

"It's good to know that your brother is human."

"So am I, Logan. So I am."

The silence between the two was deafening and quite awkward. Alex decided that he had enough and patted Logan's knee in reassurance. While Logan did not appreciate the gesture, he was still touched that Alex bothered to come downstairs and spend some time with him without the nastiness. It had been like a breath of fresh air to have someone as practical as Alex be there and to remind him that they were all still the same and quite the fighters too.

Alex left, leaving another hole that would immediately be filled, this time by Matthew. Logan had hardly paid attention to the Mitchell cousin, a former protester and combatant that landed him in trouble multiple times. Savagely transformed into an animal like Logan, it had taken a long while for Matthew to grow out of it and regain what had been lost, most of all his benevolence. At the moment, he was still as lost as the day as he was rescued, but he was also aware of his surroundings and as sharp as he was twenty years before.

"People who are in good shape are clearing out," Matthew announced sounding almost like a job offer to Logan. "I was told there's safe houses for all of them around the providence. Few are staying. There's too much noise and the neighbors are curious."

"When is this happening?" Logan was willing to get people out of here and to avoid facing the circumstances of his life. He also agreed that the house was gaining too much attention and anyone healthy enough had to depart.

"First wave out in an hour, next by dawn tomorrow. Which shift do you want?"

"Now. I'll be ready in a few."

Matthew nodded, parting. Logan instantly ensured that his space was cleared so that Chameleon had no issues and could not fuss about a mess. He was certain that the veteran would not care inwardly. Nonetheless, the bottles had been tossed into a basket and the unsmoked cigars were hidden in a new spot so that nobody could smoke them. Logan laced his boots up tighter and ran upstairs, but he stopped before the entryway, hearing someone singing. His feet froze, unable to move, and his grip on the knob grew tighter.

" _Did it take long to find me?"  
I ask the faithful light.  
"Did it take long to find me?  
"And are you gonna stay the night?"_

 _I'm being followed by a moonshadow,  
Moonshadow, moonshadow…  
Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow,  
Moonshadow, moonshadow…_

It was Danielle, singing along with the warped recorded song on the other side of the house, perhaps to some frightened kids who needed some love and comfort. Logan had to shake his head awake to get her out of there. Doing this run would help him forget that woman he did not want to remember. He may not want to show he cared anymore, but he sure wasn't going to allow his feelings to dictate his life again. It lost him a life and that was something he could not afford again. All he gained was chapters that were written in ink that should have been able to be erased and rewritten with happiness.

To one used to loneliness, it was one thing to save a person. It was another to allow emotions to rule their lives and dictate what the head denied.

* * *

 **Lyrics are from the Cat Stevens' song, "Moonshadow".**


	47. Mischief Managed!

It was a quiet week. After finding that nobody wanted anything to do with them, especially the neighbors, everyone relaxed and went on with their routines. With the house less rowdy too (and with fewer occupants), there was less of a chance of anyone finding them and that was all Danielle needed. Watching over Devon as he slept in her bed, she tried to accept that most people had departed in search of many things (mostly to end the madness that the military sought to control and to embrace closure), but found that she could not. There were so many things she needed to resolve that her head was spinning.

Now, it was just a matter of yet more waiting. It was also a period of healing for everyone. Indeed, all they wanted was to find the rest of their family and to go home, to pick up their lives and create a new future. Danielle was anxious to be back in Salem Center and to walk the familiar hallways of the mansion she called a home. That was all she wanted. At this point, her farmhouse (with her mother dead and Jay missing, it was hers) was nothing more than a reminder of what had happened on her foolish errand five years before. If she could go there safely, it was best to bring an army of help, for both cleanup and for her mind. She would need it.

Indeed, that was not just what was bothering her. A lot of her issues evolved around Jay. Separated for so long made her sick to her stomach and it wasn't from worry about her older brother alone. Her powers were waning and it was through the distance and time that made it so. They had been unable to connect and that made both of them (and Danielle could only guess with Jay) unable to cope with the great powers. The best way she could describe it (and it was to Xavier and Jean the night) before was similar to having half of your mind gone and she wasn't able to do the simplest things and feel stupid. Fatigue and exhaustion had also been explained as symptoms and even excuses to her clumsiness.

 _At least I have something more to live for._

That much Danielle could admit to herself. Devon had been a lifesaver and risked his life for all of them, taking a bullet like Danielle had. Orphaned as a child after his parents suffered the ultimate price for harboring their mutant child (and an old fourteen years old without guidance, to boot), he had been living in San Francisco for much of that time, digging through the garbage cans and maybe getting some water from a rain barrel. Picked up by a police force when Leon Ellis had been overthrown, he endured torture from the off groups that sprouted in lieu of the family he craved, tossed from one prison t another until Danielle arrived in Seattle. Devon was just one of many who survived.

Devon would never take the place of Michael and Riley and was an addition to her growing brood of boys. That much Danielle was sure about. However, she was amused that she was helping and that she wanted to give him a better life. Devon was fazed by the fact that Danielle was the dictator's widow and would ask her all sorts of inquiries that ended with him asleep without answers. Either way (with or without her titles), he wanted to be loved and to love someone in return and having a mother who was childless (and hoping to get his brothers back) was something that appealed to both of them.

Wincing, Danielle got up. Devon's slumbering condition was not going to change anytime soon and she was weary of the sitting. She promised herself lunch (it had to be past two in the afternoon) and it would be quick anyway. There was always cold cuts and bread (and maybe some mayonnaise and mustard) in the refrigerator. Hank always made sure of that, especially in light of so large of a company that came by.

It was a delicious thought too, something that made her stomach rumble and remind her that the last meal had been a few days before. Dreaming, Danielle thought to add mayonnaise and maybe some cheese in the mix, she was that hungry. The picture of so delicious a meal and as simple as a sandwich too brought back a wave of images, of childhood picnics and family laughter in the sunshine. That picture was easily squashed with reality and a pile of bodies. She had to think of something else.

Instead, new words came unbidden to Danielle as she stood up and stretched her limbs. She attempted to work them through and try to create something that made sense and only managed to get a stanza and a few more lines in. She considered it a loss for now, humming the song that she started long ago and adding in the next phase she managed to make. That alone could be a gain nonetheless, even though her mind jumbled with words and notes to go along with it.

 _She's out on the corner,  
Trying to catch a glimpse.  
Nothing's making sense.  
She's been chasing an answer,  
A sign lost in the abyss,  
This Metropolis, she says,  
"Yeah, he's still coming,  
"Just a little but late.  
"He got stuck at the Five  
"And Dime, saving the day."_

 _She says, "If life was a movie,  
"Then, it wouldn't end like this,  
"Left without a kiss."  
Still, she smiles,  
Oh, the way she smiles, yeah…_

 _She's talking to angels,  
She's counting the stars,  
Making a wish upon a passing car.  
She's dancing with strangers,  
She's falling apart,  
Waiting for Superman to pick her up  
In his arms, in his arms.  
She's waiting for Superman._

Danielle had been so busy making her food that she did not notice that a group of people came into the kitchen. When the shadows danced before her eyes as the counter trembled with their heavy footsteps and trembles, she gasped lightly, but calmed herself when she allowed her mind to scan the area to reassure herself of safety. People had returned from the last outing and were just giving news to Hank and Xavier, who had decided that the kitchen was the most private place to discuss things.

There wasn't much to report to them, Danielle heard, but she kept her mouth shut and finished her task before literally disappearing with her food. She stayed put in her position though, listening to Logan and Roger recount the steps taken to get everyone to the safe houses across Canada. Chameleon had decided to depart with them and Matthew was sticking around, Danielle heard, and for that she was relieved. She could not stand seeing her father around the house and wished him gone and her cousin was familiar territory that gave her succor. Her desires seemed to be have been fulfilled in this case.

 _Better that my father help others than stay here. Better that my cousin remain where there is Storm, the best person to help him cope._

Then, Roger said something that perked Danielle's ears. "Got someone who heard about the people we're missing."

"Oh?" Xavier seemed interested.

"They said that the last remaining support for Leon Ellis and his so-called ideas are in New York, along with the remaining prisoners," Roger explained quickly, feeling the need to finish up before going to his next assignment, which seemed to be babysitting kids with Mae (something he disdained immensely). "To be exact, they're in Salem Center and Westchester, where it all started."

"No shocker," Logan commented tartly.

"Wouldn't it be easier to not make themselves a target, especially in a place where it all began?" Hank was curious, starching his blue head in dismay.

"More support there out of all of the states in the US," Roger pointed out. "Besides, it gives them all a reason to hate us in Salem Center. We all centered our lives there and tried to stop Ellis and now that we did, we're going to make it stick. Either way, we're going to need to be down there eventually. Some of us are going to have to battle this one out alone."

"Something I am sure you will work out." Xavier seemed certain about it, but eyed Roger suspiciously. Although not one to talk about their methods of action, he was also wary of Roger using violence as a mean to their end.

Roger grinned innocently enough. "Of course. You can count on me, Charles."

The conversation sizzled and turned to silence. Once the foursome parted ways (each of them intent on something else that did not involve the talk), Danielle reappeared with her food. She painfully dragged herself back to the bedroom, seating herself and eating. When Hank joined her a few minutes later on an opposite chair, he did not say anything to her, waiting until the sandwich was gone before speaking. He was not unkind, Danielle noted, but he was seething inside about something.

"Why did you do it?" It was the only thing Hank could utter, wringing his hands together.

"Do what?" Danielle had an idea, but chose to play the guiltless game for a while. It might irritate others, but Hank never took it that way and decided to go along with it and that was what Danielle aimed for.

Hank took a deep breath to calm himself. "You left here and brought back…God, _so_ many people that needed homes and lives again. Why did you do it?"

"I had to do something that nobody else would," Danielle pointed out. "I could not sit there when my children… _others'_ children…were out there, alone and frightened and then had to face a gruesome death. I knew where they were imprisoned. Leon wasn't one to keep secrets from me, even if I was a mutant who always told him lies and ran away. There was a chance my children could have been there, maybe Jay and his son too. However, I think that they are elsewhere. I could hardly rescue them."

"Could be, but we cannot make assumptions about what did not happen and the choices we did not take," Hank said. "We cannot know the results. As far as I know though, Erik is still hunting down Michael and Riley. I heard that he promised you."

It stung her that a promise was remembered. That word of honor was something Danielle took, although she had hopes of her own and had her heart set on finding her children alone and without the world's mutant terrorist on her side. However, she had to trust Magneto, even if his expectations were not so high from his standing point. She recalled the horror stories she heard whispered around her about the man who lost so much and would never find peace. That alone would make him believe them dead.

In the meantime, as they played another waiting game, she accepted that Michael and Riley might be dead and never coming home, wherever that may be. It wasn't going to stop her from finding her sons though, dead or alive, and have them known to their new brother. After all, Devon is one of hers now, but it did not mean that she loved the others any more or less. She needed _all_ of her children with her.

"Yes, he did," Danielle carefully admitted, "but he did not say he didn't need help."

"Erik is a loner," Hank warned. "He'll do anything possible to achieve his goals and without hindrance behind him. If it means finding two lost boys, then he'll do it. He's endured a lot of things in his life, Danielle. I think he can understand you."

"Such a shame he could not when he had the chance."

"You cannot blame him for the past. Consider this an atonement for the mistakes he made, especially with his own children."

"I cannot be his persona; reconciliation, Hank. I cannot be his golden ticket."

"It's for himself, Danielle, just as you did for yourself when you freed everyone. Leave him be. If I know Erik, he'll be able to locate your sons and bring them here, no matter the consequences. That alone would spur him on, more than you'll ever know. It might even quiet his spirit, if he has one."

Danielle smirked. "Never thought you'd be religious, Hank."

"I'm not really." Hank shuffled his blue feet before resettling himself. "Science and law have been my religion. For Erik, his pathway was laden with darkness. He lost his family in Germany in a concentration camp, he spent almost twenty years bent on revenge and then walked through life like he was the judge and there was no jury beside him. When he went into hiding, he lost it all too. He has been accused of assassination, made public statements nationwide about elimination and has even become part of a renewal that almost killed the population of the Earth. Each time he has found peace, war catches up and ruins him."

"But it's his choice to make," Danielle protested. She would have added more, but Hank put his hand up to silence her.

"We all have a choice," Hank continued. "Erik is often led by false pretenses and prophets and his own sense of ego. Just let it go, Danielle. Unless you had seen him and known him for all of those years, you would not understand."

Danielle agreed that she did not, but it did not keep her from feeling annoyed about the revelations, not wanting to argue with Hank anymore. They then sat in a friendly silence for a while before Xavier called him to the office for a conference. This left Danielle alone with her thoughts, all of them circling around plans. She had to regain her strength. The shoulder injury was a minor setback, nothing more (she took it for Scott, who was helping a child and suddenly was attacked by unfriendly forces). Most of all, she had to find her sons, surely missing her now.

However, after she was healed enough, something had to be done. They could no longer sit back and watch the action (even Roger hinted as much). Danielle learned enough to see that they had been busy for the past few years and that it was very ugly and wasn't going to end anytime soon. She, who had been struggling to free herself and was always fighting against her husband, should have empathized with them. Instead, she felt like an outsider, even if these people had been her family, and that she alone would understand her own plight.

 _And why should it be this way?_

Danielle could not figure that out. She was within her own circle, a private one that she never wanted anyone peeking into, and perhaps this had allowed her to empathize with Magneto in some way, although she did not like it. She was a different animal than he was though, one that went through just as much as he did and maybe somewhat different than he had. Proving her powers once and for all had been her undoing, she allowed herself to live, if only to spite the husband that hated her and died with murder ready in his hands.

After all, he wasn't just going to allow her the satisfaction of getting away with death that time. When they had been captured at the farmhouse on that spring day, she was left to rot in the back of a truck for days, unwilling and unable to move. She then lived with an infection for months and allowed herself to heal only when Ellis saw to it that she was seen to by a medical professional, unwilling to be sympathetic and kind. Afterward, it had been an endless cycle of abuse and torture, years that Danielle did not want to think about. It was a wasted time, she concluded, and one that ended in one death – _his_.

About the time dinner was served, Devon woke up. Danielle talked with him for a few minutes and even offered him food. He declined, trying to get out of bed. Danielle helped him limp to the living room, the bandaged boot on his foot more a nuisance than anything else. When he settled on the couch and started watching the news with Xavier and Hank (most of it pessimistic at best), Danielle took the hint to rest herself. She had not slept all night and felt the exhaustion seeping into her body. She slowly made her way back to the bedroom, intent on a long night of slumber, just as Scott and Jean's youngest child, little Rachel, stopped her in the kitchen.

Rachel was a mischievous child, Danielle learned over the course of her stay. While she had been clingy to her mother and argued with her father often, she also had a mind of her own and always caused trouble with her brother, a lot having to do with moving things with her mind much as Jean did. It wasn't anything bad, but it was silly and sometimes annoying. Standing before Danielle, the strawberry-blonde hair hiding her dark eyes that were so much like Jean's, she huffed a little for attention.

"Yes?" Danielle was in no mood for shenanigans and showed as much to the girl.

"Logan said that he wanted to see you," Rachel announced quite loudly. It was obnoxious too.

"Any reason why?" Danielle asked, her curiosity piqued.

"He didn't say." Rachel was evasive now, hands behind her back and feet shuffling against the floor in a shyness that Danielle had seen in children thinking of trouble. She also was an expert on hiding her intentions. "He said he just wanted to see you."

"Strange, but ok. Where is he?"

"The Professor's study."

"Can't this wait?"

"He said it couldn't It was urgent."

This made Danielle immediately suspicious. In the past, if Logan needed something or someone, he wasn't afraid to get the person and talk to them and was always vocal about it. Sending a child to do this errand was not like him. Even so, he was not like himself. Danielle had not seen much of him, but she sensed him. He was dark and dangerous, a newer animal of some sort that wandered in and out of his own wilderness, and he did not talk much. From what she had heard through the gossip grapevine (something that did not end, even with the school abolished), he had lost his memories and had spent time trying to piece everything together and to live his life the way it used to be, before he had become a security man at the school.

It was a horrible way to spend days doing, but it had been achieved and made the man cold and distant with the smell of blood surrounding him. Indeed, Danielle did not like this new Logan, especially hearing Rachel being his errand girl. She thought that it may have to do with this new personality or maybe he was too lazy to walk across the house to say his intentions. Again, this did not seem like him. If he was like that, then he wouldn't be bothered with a child and might annoy Scott a bit. Something was wrong and Danielle wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"So, in the study, right?" Danielle wanted to clarify, hiding her own thoughts carefully. One created the game and two could play it.

"That's what he said," Rachel replied.

Danielle sighed, pretending to be frustrated so that the child saw nothing amiss. "All right, I'll come."

Rachel ran ahead, yelling to her brother Cable about something. Danielle did not pay heed to it. She only followed the child to the Professor's private space, feeling fatigued at the short walk. Finding the futon at the far end comfortable, she sat down, leaning back to relax, her head supporting by the top of the mattress. Rachel had closed the door by then, snickering. This too made Danielle wary, but just enough to keep her eyes opened and her body ready to move.

It was a prank. Danielle just knew it.

* * *

 **Following lyrics are (again) credited to Daughtry's "Waiting For Superman".**


	48. Think of the Many

Ever since discussing their new plans in the kitchen, Logan needed to be alone and felt that he would never get there with so much going on. Dropping off dozens of people rescued had been part of his job and he was glad it was done (it made him happier with less kids in the way anyhow), but he was ready for his own timeout now. Sitting in the basement with Teller was something he considered hardly tolerable, although the former bar owner was droning on and on about Chameleon's disappearance and how he'll be missed.

Honestly, Logan did not care about Chameleon right at the moment and was glad that he was gone, the reminder of that horrible day vanishing with him. In the meantime, he allowed Teller's buzzing in one ear and going out the other. He nodded every so often to show Teller that he was sort of there, drinking his beer and taking a stab at trying to light his cigar. With Teller so chatty, there was no chance, especially since Logan's lighter was giving him trouble.

Eventually, Logan had enough. When Roger called Teller upstairs, saying that there was some news on the TV about Ellis' remaining forces, Logan took the opportunity to urge Teller to go away. When the former bar owner stomped upstairs in anxious anticipation (as well as calling Logan a few choice names when he realized that he was having the conversation himself), the basement was empty and quiet. Only the rustling noise of the dust dancing in the fading sunshine indicated that there was any life around Logan.

Finally, there can be some smoking. While the rule stood for a smoke-free environment in the main living areas, Logan was never told by Xavier exactly to keep it contained outside. He took advantage of this loophole every chance he got, this hour included, and considered himself lucky that nobody particularly cared. He smacked his lighter a few more times, even going as far as refilling it with fluid, and puffed in glee at long last.

After hearing from slow and unsteady thumping from the other side of the house (presuming it was that kid Danielle adapted), Logan settled into the couch, laying back with a cold beer and a lit cigar. Halfway through both within a few minutes, he noticed someone coming downstairs. Thinking it was Teller, Logan muttered some curses under his breath and resumed his activities. When a kid – Cable, Scott and Jean's eldest child – appeared in front of him, Logan quickly put out the cigar and hid the glass bottle to one side.

Logan growled, hiding his anger that he was disturbed. "What you want, kid?"

"Message from that redheaded lady," Cable replied, innocent as could be. "She sent me here."

"I don't take messages. Tell them to fuck off."

"But this is important."

"If it's from your mom, forget it. She can come down here herself."

Cable's mouth twisted into a grimace, so like Scott that Logan almost laugh. _Almost_. "This isn't from my mom," he clarified. "If it was, I would have said so."

"Are you talking about Danielle?"

"Yeah, the evil dead man's wife. She asked that you meet her in the Professor's office."

This Logan found very strange. Ever since he arrived back from his last trip, Danielle had been avoiding him like the plague, unsure of how to proceed after their separation. Not to mention, he always known her to come seeking him out. She would not be sending a child (much less Jean and Scott's) to ask him to meet her in someone else's office. She'd pull him to the side where they could talk, usually in one of their rooms, and say something.

Something was very fishy with the situation. He just could not put a finger onto what it is. However, he wanted to find out more than anything else. That alone he found perturbing. Curiosity always killed the cat…

"Any reason why?" Logan asked, stalling for time and feeling that he needed to find out. He didn't think the situation was dangerous, only childish.

"She just said it was important," Cable insisted. "She didn't say why."

This was vague too. Logan groaned, ensuring that the house was not going to burn down with his smoldering paradise, and contemplated skewing the kid and decided against it because of Jean. With the bottle still hidden, Logan got up and followed Cable to Xavier's office. He did not pay much attention to anything else, only entering and hearing the door close behind him. On the futon, Danielle sat up, startled. She noted Logan arriving and did not want to say anything, studying him instead. Yes, it was as she suspected too. They had been set up.

Logan looked at Danielle with what equated to disgust. "Your idea?"

"Never," Danielle vowed vehemently. "Yours?"

"No." Logan's word was final and cold.

"Why would they do this to us?"

"I smell a scheme. Hold on."

Logan went to the door and tried it. It was locked from the outside. He jiggled it for a second, contemplating using his claws. Danielle dangerously got up and put a gentle hand on his knuckles, willing him to keep it cool and not use forceful ways. She had an idea on what he was doing. She did not want him damaging what was said to be their home. After all, it was leased to them by a kind government man, as she was informed when she arrived some time ago, and that was a level of trust nobody expected. Trashing it would make their situation (since they were here on the Canadian government's nickel and dime) worse.

"They did this for a reason," Danielle tried rationalizing to Logan. "I don't think they were trying to joke around and make us look like fools."

Logan said nothing, turning to Danielle, his other hand now on the knob and ready to be decimated. His face was unreadable, she thought. It was too stoic as well. She would only be able to tell what he was thinking if she was able to enter his mind and that was something she was not willing to do without his permission. Before (when it was actually fun to watch a man nobody knew much about), it had been easy to anticipate his moves. He wasn't that he was predictable once a routine was established. No, Logan had been hers and hers alone then, two of a kind that became one.

 _Or so I thought…_

The threatening look that passed on Logan's face briefly made Danielle back away slowly, her hands held up defensively. Wounded, she inched back to the futon slowly, sitting down again and keeping her hands in front of her. It seemed an unwise idea to cross Logan at the moment. He did not take this kindly, worse that he was irritated at a couple of children who wished them nothing more than the best.

When the music filtered in seconds later from the other room, she had her confirmation. This wasn't any kind of prank really and seemed more spontaneous and fun than anything else. No, the kids were trying to get them back together as a couple. How and why they knew, Danielle could not see, but the way they were going about it was funny all the same. She wanted to laugh and to join in on the merriment, but it was impossible with Logan so dour and annoyed as he contemplated his next step.

 _All right…all right…  
First of all, when you wake  
Up in the evening  
And the day is shot,  
Find yourself complainin'  
'bout the things you ain't got  
Never crossed just the way  
That you wanted it to  
Cliché of the day,  
Cest la via, that's just…_

 _Life, it ain't easy,  
It's so tough, it ain't easy.  
Whatcha gonna go,  
Say, whatcha gonna do?_

 _Put a smile on your face.  
Make the world a better place.  
Put a smile on your face.  
Whatcha wanna do,  
Say, whatcha gonna do?_

Logan had enough. Caged like an animal and damning their welcome to hell, he roared and destroyed the doorknob, leaving the door swinging on its hinges. He then rushed out, returning to his sanctuary in the basement, the rage radiating from him in a large wave that enveloped the house under his dark cloud. This left Danielle alone in the office, unable to believe what had happened. She could not smile this time, even if the song encouraged her to. She was nearly in tears, her emotions starting to seep from her body to the room around her.

A few minutes later, after some yelling on everyone's part (mostly Scott), the music stopped. Danielle heard Cable and Rachel protesting about the punishment he forced on them, feeling a certain sadness when the two were told they were grounded and to stay in their rooms upstairs on the second floor. She remained where he was though, waiting for some sort of explanation. It came of course, but it was Jean that entered the office (thankfully not Scott), almost as irritated as Logan was earlier.

Jean seated herself next to Danielle. "I told you that it would be impossible to love him" she reminded Danielle. "I didn't mean age either."

It was salt in an old wound. Danielle recalled the conversation from years before, when she started college and hid in the woods after her first day, when she had to witness the so-called math and science of why she was inferior and why mutants should be killed, bowing down to the will of true humans. Jean's statement then and even now signified that she knew something that Danielle did not and that this was her way of clarifying a situation she did not like to see the younger mutant in.

"He had a past that created his callous side," Danielle replied, holding back a sob. It was enough that the study itself was still dripping blue and silver mist. "He was a nomad and a loner. He loved for himself, not for another person or a family."

"And you changed that, if only for a while," Jean pointed out, "and that ruined him according to himself. He is worse off than he ever was and will be."

"And it's _my_ fault why?"

"Your influence was positive, Danielle, but only when tragedy didn't keep striking. Logan obsessed over you and something in him made that change like a light switch."

"Yeah, my husband and cousin did that to him. They shot him in the head. He hardly remembers a thing."

"And that molded him into this. However, I would not fret about it, Danielle. I'm sure he'll get over it."

"I doubt it." Danielle paused, wanting to change the topic. "What will happen with your kids? Seems like Scott got them cornered."

Jean shrugged her shoulder in indifference, the gesture more like a mother not wishing to interfere with her children's discipline and leaving it to the other parental figure. "He never liked Logan. Having Rachel and Cable involving themselves with him made Scott a little mad. I don't think he's gotten over some things and distance never made his heart grow fonder."

Danielle smiled, wanting to laugh at the childish silliness and never finding a way to. "I think it was more than that. I thought that those two would be _murdered_."

"Remember, Scott and Logan never got along," Jean repeated like a mantra. "He wants them to stay as far away from Logan as possible, something that I've disagreed with for years and am fighting him on. Might take some time to change his mind though."

Danielle nodded. She understood.

There was not much more to say for the two friends, the conversation exhausted of all topics. Jean left the office, leaving Danielle alone. She did not know what to think of the situation, much else why Jean's children would want to be involved in rekindling a romance. As a mother, she remembered that her sons loved nothing more than to fix something that was broken. However, she did not see herself and Logan as people that needed to be glued back together, only pieced to keep themselves afloat. They were nothing more than the products of their environment, sharpened by years of being beaten and tortured by the same people who brought them together.

Danielle remained where she was until later in the evening, after Devon poked his head in and announced that he was going to bed. She helped him back into the bedroom, wishing him a good night before closing the noises from the outside world from his ears. Still pained from her shoulder injury, she took a chair in the dining room, staring out of an open window into the ink-black darkness. The stars were out, she noted, and a chill was in the air. Autumn was coming, an early sign of a long winter to come, especially for Canada, and it was a harsh one from the looks of it.

After a while, Danielle sat in loneliness until Roger entered her domain. The master spy had just heard the news that Ellis' last remaining army had just arrived in Salem Center an had prisoners, Westchester being taken back by the military forces now in control of the government Ellis has destroyed. They were centering their activities on the farmlands at the edge of town and their word was spreading again like wildfire. It was overkilling the job if the military went in and ended it. Roger had been asked to send a few people in and to take no prisoners. It needed to end.

Danielle did not have to look up at Roger, leaving him standing there before her, suspended. "What do you need?" she inquired, feeling tired and old all at once. She had done one run back to the States and did not feel up to another.

"Salem Center," Roger simply replied. "Get them out and we can start going home."

"Roger, I don't think I can do it."

"You don't have much to live for these days. Why not?"

"You can hardly call a cripple without her children save for one and a widow of the mastermind one for the count."

Roger dared to come forward and lean against the table, his back to Danielle, but his face inclined in her direction. "Danielle, I've known you since you were born, maybe even when you were just a wet dream. You're stronger than this. You can travel there when you're ready and hang them by their ankles. Nobody is going to expect the widow of Leon Ellis is coming running forward with a killing shot."

Danielle protested as she stared at Roger's brown eyes, her lips formed in outrage. "Roger, you have no idea –"

"I do actually," the master spy interrupted. "Remember, I trained you and had you beaten to a bloody pulp before you decided to fight back. You've got no excuse this time except for yourself. You can't wallow in misery forever, Danielle. Your brother is still out there and they have him. Your sons are missing and someone we considered a nuisance for years is out there helping you keep them alive, no matter the cost to his own life. You need to step up, woman. Get out there and use the talents you have. Forget that you were Danielle Ellis, wife of a dictator and mother of his sons. That's done and over with these days. You are Danielle Mitchell, a person with her own life and new chapters to be written. You have a future when millions do not and all in thanks to your husband."

"We had ways to stop him before this happened."

"And we chose not to because our pathway wasn't straight and narrow and we had no plan where Ellis did. It cost millions of lives, but it would have cost us more and a future we could not afford if we continued on the road we had. Charles was no fool, Danielle. He called the shots, but he also knew where the wind was blowing. He could no change the minds of the population, even with his powers, and would not have been able to persuade a nation that one man was wrong. Wishes became nightmares and Charles is always hopeful, even with the present administration."

"But they're using us, more than I realized."

"Sometimes, the lesser of two evils is the good side. We're never innocent, Ghost, never after of this played out. However, we can build from the ashes and make a better world. The strongest don't need to survive in order to make it happen though. Anyone can."

This made Danielle think some more. Roger had a few good points, but she did not feel ready in her condition nor was she interested in getting back into the action. She had enough adventure ensuring that her friends did not share the same fate she would have had they not acted. Emptying out a pocket of discontentment in her hometown was something that seemed to put her mind in disarray though. Salem Center was a place full of memories that held more bad than good. She could no longer stand in that place and deem it safe for her or her family even if it was cleaned out.

On the other hand, there was no other way for the military to quiet them down without looking bad themselves. They already received a reputation for brutal killings and no mercy, especially since a good portion of them worked with Ellis to begin with. Sending their best one-person army was a way to show the public that they meant no harm and that they would take care of them for as long as they could without the discrimination. However, the single group that could handle that was them.

"Give me a day," Danielle allowed, regretting the decision immediately. "I'll give you an answer by tomorrow afternoon."

Roger grinned, feeling victorious. "I'll take your word for it. I only hope for your sake that you make the best one, Danielle. It's not just for you, but for us as well. Think of the many, not just the one, this night."

* * *

 **Lyrics are from the Vitamin C song, "Smile".**


	49. Improvising

By the next evening, the choice had been made. Danielle was going to Salem Center and she would be going alone.

Roger did not give her a specific time in which she had to leave. Danielle thought that the less farewells she had to make, the less fuss she would receive. The only ones that truly mattered were Devon and the Professor, the two people she felt she owed something to at the moment. Jean and Logan…well, the former felt the same way (and promised to take care of her children in case things happened) and the latter had not emerged from his basement sanctuary in some time. Mae was too busy upstairs with the remaining sick and wounded and Roger did not want her to know until Danielle was miles away. Hank was too busy with Scott with something to even notice and Matthew and Ororo were still recovering upstairs to even know.

 _All the better to get out of here. Nobody needs to see and nobody will notice._

That night before bedtime, Danielle explained to Devon what was happening in as little detail as she could get away with and admitted that anything could go wrong with her mission. She reassured him that she would use the best of her abilities to come back, but there was a small chance that she would not. She kept telling Devon that she loved him dearly and would always keep him in mind. However, even with his worldly mind, Devon understood, even if he clung to Danielle a little too tightly. Like the child he used to be and was denied to him, Devon held on as much as he could before Danielle had to leave.

"I love you," Danielle said sincerely one last time before tucking Devon into bed and turning off the light. "Remember that always."

"I love you too, Mom," Devon replied, the small innocent voice echoing in the dark bedroom Danielle was leaving. "Please come home to me."

It almost broke her heart. Danielle felt hot tears prickle her eyes, but she wiped them away quickly. She did not want Devon to see this weakness, choosing instead to look forward and to never glance backwards. From there, she walked to Xavier's office and knocked on the door, only interrupting his writing. He waved her inside, motioning that their conversation be private. When Danielle closed the heavy item, he smiled.

"Roger tells me that you are going to New York," Xavier started plainly, showing no displeasure or elation at the prospect. He didn't even display any feelings on the matters, which made Danielle relieved in a way.

"Yes," she replied. "It was not easy to decide. I do not want to go back there, but somebody has to face the music and do what needs to be done."

"It's possible Jay is held captive there." Xavier was positive about it. "He would need you and vice versa. It might be a good idea for you to go."

"I have not seen him in years, Professor," Danielle lamented. "I don't think he'll recognize me. The last time we met, he hardly couldn't." She did not want to add that they had been shoved on a stage and were about to be murdered, but she thought that Xavier would see the point anyway.

"Powers with two of a kinds rolling into one? I disagree. I am sure you and Jay would have known each other and will connect immediately."

"I am not the same person I used to be and have repressed my powers so much that I hardly know how to use them anymore. Then again, what am I doing, going back to Salem Center the way I am?"

"You're making it possible for us to go home, Danielle. It had been kind of the Canadian government to give us sanctuary and to allow us the ability to work with the present organization that is attempting to recreate our country and to clean out the discord. Leon Ellis destroyed everything we had ever known and leveled it so that something can be built anew now. We are still only instruments that assist in making our dream possible."

"And what's that? A country without any real structure?"

"Anyone can stumble, Danielle. One just needs to find their way out of the darkness and keep going. It does not need to be the individual, but the mass as well."

That too seemed sound, words echoed from different difficult times in their lives. Danielle could not argue the point, trying to keep positive herself just as she was urged to do. Just her, on a journey to Salem Center to take down a group that wanted to bring them back to the years of uncertainty? When she is now considered the most wanted person in the US right now? It was a large task surely and one she could hardly do, but Xavier was right in this one instance and he reinforced her decision. She had to keep going. She had to hold onto the most basic human feeling of hope in order to pass this hurdle and to come back alive.

"Anything you need me to do while I'm out?" Danielle made it seem like a shopping trip the way she posed the question.

"Have a safe trip," Xavier answered. "Come back soon."

Danielle nodded. She then left the office, sneaking out the back door to the driveway with keys and supplies in her hands and the waiting car. Roger had provided her with locations to stop at to change the license plate and to present her ID. That too would be swapped out for a new one with a new name. They all were aware that she alone was coming, no companions and help, and that she would not need backup when the time came to decimate their target. Roger made that plainly clear.

Pulling the keys given to her, she entered the vehicle, tossing her bag to the opposite seat and starting the engine. It was a frightening thing since she had not driven since before her marriage (especially since she was driven everywhere or was tossed in one truck or van or another). However, once Danielle reversed the vehicle and began the trip down the designated roads, she eased back into the usual rhyme she used to love and relaxed. The only thing that ached (other than her missing her sons) was the seat belt against her left shoulder, still bandaged and throbbing.

It would be some hours before dawn and when she would reach the border of Canada and North Dakota. If she rested only for naps and drove twelve hours at a time like a truck driver, she estimated maybe three days maximum and she would reach Salem Center. That would be pushing it, especially for her, weakened as she was from the trauma of the last few weeks alone. However, time was of the essence. The fire had to be extinguished or else they might be burnt in the lingering flames.

Danielle sensed another presence behind her as she turned off of their street and followed Roger's previous vocal directions to the highway. This one was still at the house, but remained behind and watched her disappear. She had an idea of who it was and did not want to think about it. Best to focus on the mission ahead and ignore any person who might undermine it. Anything emotional could be dealt with later.

~00~

Standing at the side of the house smoking his usual cigar (since Xavier now banned them in the basement), Logan was fuming. He watched Danielle leave the house, packed lightly and without company, and all without saying anything to anybody. He personally had not heard about Danielle being assigned to something, although Roger had yet to say a word about kicking that group out of Salem Center. It was laughable to think Danielle going at that alone, but now that he was thinking about it, Logan was sure that Roger pushed her into it. That could not be tolerated.

There were many reasons Logan had for his thought process. First off, the woman had hardly recovered from her illegal trip down south, so she would be slow on the attacks. Secondly, this was a large organization that ran underground, taking unkindly to anyone who interrupted their business, a widow of Leon Ellis (and a mutant) especially. Lastly, Danielle was a target and a good hostage and anyone who saw her would not hesitate to use her as leverage for their means. Roger was insane to allow her to leave the premises and with no backup as well.

Calmly and without allowing his rage to get him blinded, Logan finished his cigar and threw the stub into the street. He re-entered the house through the front, cautious of the dark rooms that always made him suspicious of foreign activity. When he saw that there was no threat, he immediately went in search of Roger's room, located just off of the kitchen, next to Danielle and Devon's. Roger and Mae shared the space, although the latter had been busy upstairs and hardly slumbering in there lately. The master spy was most likely in there scheming, with his eyes opened or not. Logan had yet to see which one it was.

Formalities did not matter. Logan kicked the entranceway open, startling Roger. He jumped out of the bed with a gun in one hand and a knife in another, relaxing only when he saw Logan. When Logan slammed the door shut behind him, Roger's mood fouled, his weapons put away under his pillow. He wasn't exactly resting per se, but he had been going over specifics from a paper report sent from Jubilee, who was stationed at one of Danielle's stops (and happy to be freed too). Seeing Logan appear so collective after bluntly letting him know how he felt was annoying. Roger sat back on the bed and sighed.

"What _now_ , Logan?" Roger asked, feeling older and more tired than his years allowed. "Not smoking in the house getting to you? Kids lock you in Charles' office again? Beer not cold enough?"

"You know what I came here for." Logan's tone was flat, although Roger found it threatening.

"You come in here to complain about a million things." Roger sighed again. "The kids bother you. The electricity in the basement isn't working. Chameleon is being a pain in the ass. At this point, you need to fuckin' deal with it and go the fuck the sleep."

"I don't need to tell you about those things. Jean and Scott were told that if their kids came near me again, they'd be skewered. I have enough lights in the basement and can see in the dark anyway. Chameleon also isn't here anymore."

"What the hell _is_ it then?"

"Missing your beauty rest while you guess?"

"Fuck off. You know that there's no rest for the weary. Get the point, Logan. Mae might amuse me later on tonight if I'm lucky."

"Doubtful, bub. She'll be angry to hear that Danielle is going to New York."

The look of surprise on Roger's face was priceless. Logan did not think he caught Roger that way before and felt pretty proud of himself for throwing a card he never knew he had. However, the few seconds of victory were replaced with Roger's usual defensive guard. The master spy quickly shook off the notion that Logan had more information than he did and transformed back into his normal stoic attitude. Crossing his arms, he stared at Logan with disdain.

"You think I don't know what I'm doing?" Roger demanded. "I didn't send Danielle there to play nice. She has the ability to draw them out and defeat them in an instant if she used the senses we trained her to use. There's no doubt about it."

"We don't even have a _name_ for the organization, Roger," Logan pointed out. "We can only guess that they're dangerous and I would assume rightfully so that they are. However, sending the widow of their former role model, and one that almost killed her too, would be suicide. They'd skin her alive."

"She can live and die as she pleases. That would throw them off."

"And she also has no backup and would surely choose the easier route. One woman assassin out on the limb? How so you expect she'd manage to survive?"

"With her wits, cunning and strength. I believe Danielle Ellis has the ability to hide in a corner and wish that somebody would stop trying to kill her. Danielle Mitchell…now, _she_ has more potential than we realize and would be kicking some asses. Besides, Logan, if this group has Jay, he would be able to help her. Two powers rolled into one is one hell of a thing to try and defeat."

"Not if he has been beaten and starved as you keep reporting."

"We can work on that later. Jay has a way of getting back up and fighting."

Logan disagreed, not feeling that he had to be vocal about it any longer. Disgusted with Roger, he exited the bedroom, his feet padding the floor so hard that some woke up. Hank especially was irritated that his dreamy slumbers with Mystique (only in his surreal mind, but nobody needed to know that) were interrupted. Sticking his head out of his own room and motioning to Xavier behind him to stay in his own bed, he watched as Logan stormed to the cellar and stomped down the stairs with Roger following him. The conversation went on even as the door slammed behind them.

"What the hell do you think you're doing now?" Roger snapped. "You can't go out there. You'll compromise her."

"If I don't, she'll die." Logan continued getting himself dressed, packing nothing more than the clothes on his back. He then faced Roger with a rage that even the master spy had not seen before. "You can pretend to care all you want, Roger. The only reason I would be going is because I promised to be a team player and to keep a now-dead woman happy. It appears you have forgotten that."

Roger could not stop Logan now, especially not when his claws were suddenly out and he already threatened him with them. As soon as his boots were laced though, Logan raced to the back entranceway and left, leaving the more than just Roger's mouth hanging. He departed this house with a purpose that had not been seen in years, something that Roger understood was going to kill him on the inside once more.

 _I hate that man. Wish someone could wipe his memories away again…so we can dump him someplace where and forget about him._ Roger was certain of that this time, annoyed as he was that his plan was again destroyed.

~00~

There she was. The dictator's young widow.

Jubilee had been waiting for Danielle for some hours now, standing in the yard of the last safe house before she was to drive to Salem Center. It was a cold day in Albany (and three days since Danielle was reported to have left Canada), but she did not care. Jubilee was more concerned about going home more than anything else, no matter the cost to her and what was left of her sanity. After all, she had been imprisoned by the same people as Danielle had and endured so much before she decided to escape and make her way back to Roger's graces. It was a matter of time before they broke through.

 _And here I am, the dictator's former mistress, jailed for betrayal and freed on determination alone. How ironic, how the mighty have fallen._

Danielle got out of the car and locked it, eying Jubilee in mild surprise. She masked it with professionalism though, walking up the rock pathway and embracing Jubilee. It was returned, the grip harder than Danielle expected, and they soon parted, their hands lingering on each other's before releasing awkwardly. Danielle tried smiling in pure encouragement then, thinking it almost hopeless to be going at this alone. However, seeing a familiar face was helpful, even if it was a person who tormented her as a child.

"What news, Jubilee?" Danielle asked, taking her fill of the woman who stole her husband's affections from her and hated it when she learned. "Where am I heading to?"

"Let's go inside," Jubilee offered, heading Danielle inside. Once they had entered into what was a dining area, they seated themselves before Jubilee continued. "Well, it's a tricky situation. Their numbers are getting higher, maybe a hundred or more, and it's bad press to get them the same way they had all of the other cities. The military people who took over leadership after Ellis are taking flak for the way they handled things. Killing thousands of innocents was not a prosperous start to their reign, even if millions more had been liberated."

"It was the only way to exterminate the bad," Danielle said. At least, that was what she would have done anyway…after the guiltless people had been cleared out of course.

"And it almost killed us all," Jubilee reminded her. "Now, a hundred or so isn't large by many standards, but one town is enough, especially one that was hostile towards the Black Serpents to begin with. This is their way of sticking their tongues out and mooning us. Salem Center is in the mood for some silly revenge."

"So?" Danielle did not care about that. She only wanted the mission, not mindless gossip.

" _So_ , Danielle, you can see that this is petty. Your job is to get rid of them before another pops up…as if they're not doing it already and competing. Now, they're at a spot you'd just love."

"Where?"

"Oh, your home. The farmhouse."

"How… _obvious_."

"Apparently, they found it a good headquarters and have been camping out there ever since. Title is still in your name, thanks to your husband, and the house still stands tall. However, hospitality isn't one of their strong points. The place is trashed and they have killed anybody who has entered except their own and prisoners are taken when it's convenient. Even locals who have offered their services have been maimed and sacrificed as examples."

"They're domestic terrorists, you mean."

"Exactly. It does not help that they sent us pictures of Jay and a message handwritten by him."

Jubilee pulled out some papers from the floor and handed them to Danielle. The Mitchell sibling glanced at them without cringing at the atrocities she faced throughout the years, only passing her mother's suicide pictures, knowing them to be there to scare her. When she reached the ones with Jay and then his written plea to be liberated, she looked up at Jubilee.

"This is asking us to meet him at the farmhouse at dawn tomorrow," Danielle said. Her heart was beating into her chest, anxious.

"I know. It's a trap." Jubilee was quiet.

"Then, we need to make the trap turn against them."

"How?"

Danielle grinned, putting the horrible pages down. "I don't know yet. I'll improvise as I go along. In the meantime, I'll just sneak into town and get this done… _alone_."


	50. Let It Burn

_I watch the city burn.  
These dreams like ashes float away.  
Your voice I never heard, only silence.  
Where were you when our hearts were bleeding?  
Where were you when it all crashed down?  
Never thought that you'd deceive me.  
Where are you now? Oh…_

 _How long can you stand the pain?  
How long will you hide your face?  
How long will you be afraid?  
Are you afraid? Oh…  
How long will you play this game?  
Will you fight or will you walk away?  
How long will you let it burn?  
Let it burn, let it burn…_

It was like the edge of an abyss. The fog rose with the rising sun, although the yellow sphere hardly shone and disappeared behind the gathering clouds quickly, leaving behind a deserted landscape. The farmlands that Danielle had grown up in had turned to dust, a reminder that they were not able to catch the crooks in time to stop them from destroying this bounty. Years of growing and then years of drought and decay had made the place ghost-like and a very-much neglected land and one that courted trouble.

Danielle had managed to pass the guards at the town lines the night before, leaving her vehicle in Westchester at a military installment that knew where she was going and possibly coming back. By foot during the last hours of darkness, she traveled up and down the once-familiar roads to the place she had known pain and love. Up the last hill, she almost stumbled downward, catching her footing before tripping into a ditch. Lucky too, especially since toxins of a fatally poisonous sort managed to seep down the irrigation systems.

It angered Danielle to no end as she neared what was her home. This was one of Salem Center's ways of life, an exchange of bounty that gathered the communities together and kicked-started the economy decades before her time. Now, it was a wasteland, especially the house she last tried cleaning and was captured at a little more than five years before. Coming upon that place was pitiful (if Danielle had to determine her feelings and the state of it) and it was very emotional too. Three trucks were parked near the collapsing garage, all of them filled with anxious faces that peered out at her upon their noticing of the moving figure. They were prisoners and the ones outside with the guns were their captors.

She took a deep breath, stepping onto the soft ground and daring herself to stomp onto her old property, bravely walking forward to show that she still owned it. Nobody moved, eying her as she came closer to the trucks. When she stopped before the first one, she had to laugh. The one who appeared to be the leader (of the guards anyway) put a weapon to her face, a signal for her to halt. Danielle had faced more than this youngster ever will, one who appeared no more than eighteen years old and perhaps a puppet of parents or other family members, and did not care much for his attitude. When she was that age, she had found the love of her life and lost him in a gamble that nearly took all of their lives and had married against her will.

"What walks here?" the teenager immediately asked, keeping the threat still in Danielle's face.

"A _what_? So, I am not a person anymore?" Danielle challenged this openly, risking her life by being petulant. "I am the legal owner of this property, Danielle Mitchell. Law says you're all trespassing."

"No sign, no inhabitants. Finders are the keepers. Besides, possession is nine-tenths of the law anyway."

"And this is mine, regardless of what you believe. Take your men and get the hell out of here before you regret it. These people and I are not worth your trouble."

"But your brother is. He's too dangerous for society…and so are you."

With a snap of his fingers, the teenager called several men forward that had been hidden around the house. They each had a can of gasoline, pouring it all over the house with another sound of their commander's fingers, from garage to roof and all the way around the decaying porch, rails and old vinyl siding that Shannon chose with pride over thirty years before. Without further prompting, they each threw in a match, immediately engulfing the place in flames. In seconds, sections of it started exploding, causing the men to back away and gather to the front in droves.

 _And all of them for me. How nice._

That was when Danielle realized what they had done, putting the pieces of the puzzle together to create a new picture. Shoving the gun to one side and rushing to the house, she tried reaching out to her brother inside with all of the energy her powers allowed, hoping that Jay had enough in him to sense her, but she hardly found the spark of life. It seemed so far away and almost underground, much too faint to sense. Danielle then pushed out as much as her powers as she could, hoping that it was enough for Jay to survive off of, and turned back to the group in rage. She had never felt so angry in her life, even thinking it surpassed anything her dead husband had ever done.

"This ends," Danielle growled, almost in the same manner as Logan when he was pissed. " _Now_."

"I guess so." The teenager raised his weapon again and pointed it at her head. "We'll see who wins in the end though."

Danielle was about to spring into action to avoid being shot at again, but stood still as soon as she saw something shiny come through the attacker's neck, a pain that caused him to drop his gun and start his downward collapse towards death. The silver tips were dipped in red dots, retracting quickly as soon as the head rolled off of the body in a glorious tumble. When the teenager hit the ground in a pool of his own blood, Danielle saw who had helped her. It was Logan.

 _I watch the city burn.  
These passions slowly smoldering,  
A lesson never learned, only violence.  
Is your world just a broken promise?  
Is your love just a drop of rain?  
Will we all just burn like fire?  
Are you still there? Tell me now…_

 _Can you stand the pain?  
How long will you hide your face?  
How long will you be afraid?  
Are you afraid? Oh…  
How long will you play this game?  
Will you fight or will you walk away?  
How long will you let it burn?  
Let it burn, let I burn…_

At the death of their leader, it seemed like hell broke loose. Reaching for her knives, Danielle dove her way through a thick layer of bodies to the first truck, kicking aside and punching anybody who stood in her way. She tried the lock, shoving anyone aside who tried pulling her away, and only managed to get a knife tip inside before being dragged away by several men. Kicking and screaming like an animal (losing all sense of strategy by then), she tried escaping, choking on the smoke from the fire. Tossed into the middle of the yard nearest to the burning house, her back hit Logan's. She felt a vibration run into her head from the adamantium, ringing in there like a bell in her head.

A large circle former around the pair, raised guns posed at them. Danielle could have laughed, it was so pathetic how so many thought two mutants would be so threatening. They could not possible kill them all, even if they were outnumbered. She counted maybe twenty men, with more outside of that circle. She then calculated how they would be able to knock them all out and then unlock the trucks to release those people, seeing that Logan was doing the same. The odds were against them, but that was their lot in life and one that they overcame many times before.

"You have a plan?" Danielle asked Logan quietly, hoping that he had something better than he had. The second-in-command of the group was already requesting their last wishes.

"No," Logan replied. "Was thinking you did."

"I was imagining a free-for-all, but that might not work. I'm not as strong or invincible as you are."

"Maybe that's the best we've got."

"How long do you think someone can get these people to the base?"

"We're not doing it?"

"I don't have time for niceties nor have the patience to drive. I'm sure you feel the same way."

"I agree."

"Silence!" the man in the center of the circle yelled, signaling for his comrades to lock and load. When he himself shot, he aimed for Logan's neck, hitting it in the dead center.

Even though Danielle knew that there was no chance of death with Logan, she nonetheless gave a little startled screech that gave the men some satisfaction. She was embarrassed about it too, watching as the bullet popped out and the wound healed. Logan only cracked his neck, staring at the shooter with nothing more than disdain and disgust.

"Is that all you got, bub?" Logan was not impressed.

The shock was obvious on everyone's faces. Without warning and with the cry of mutant on their tongues, they all tried firing at Logan, purposely missing Danielle by inches (she ducked just in case), and watched in horror as their efforts turned vain. Upon reloading, they next attempted to get her, thinking that one might be hard to get, but the other would not be. It was a good notion and one that Logan caught quickly.

Logan used himself as a shield immediately, his back to the shooters, but Danielle did not need the help from him. In fear of an impending death, much as she had years before at the rally her husband organized, she created a protective silver and blue bubble around herself and Logan, watching the bullets bounce off of it, all of them in frustration and desperation more than anything else.

"How much longer?" Logan inquired.

Danielle said nothing. She did not know what he was referring to, the protective cover or when the men would stop and figure out that their work was futile. Either way, it wouldn't be long. It was tiring to keep up the charade anyway, but a lot more fun to see their enemy run out of bullets and get exasperated. That would be to their advantage, she mused, since it would mean that they would not be thinking of a sound strategy.

The disadvantages? She was cramped from having an overweight body full of metal on top of her, her shoulder was sore from the previous efforts and she was losing her energy pretty fast. She wasn't going to last much longer and she was losing strength faster than he normally would have. However, Logan was her shield. He'll go along with anything she schemed or make something up on his own.

Fifteen long minutes had passed before someone abandoned their gun and tried other means to get through, nicked by the passing metal from his buddies. Finally, the others decided to do the same when they emptied themselves of ammo, using any means to try to get inside the bubble and acting stupidly about it. This bored Danielle and Logan, who waited for their chance to strike. They both had the same idea and nodded without words. Free style until all of them were down, none of them living.

Again, there was the count. With a few of them almost shot at because the others' bullets ricocheted, the numbers had decreased a little. They were down to maybe twenty-five men and all of them weak from attacking them. Best of all, nobody paid heed to the trucks and all of them were so concentrated at the pair, it was ridiculous. Danielle gently pushed Logan off of her finally, thinking to release them both. She was starting to see blackness coming before her eyes, a sure sign that she was going to lose it soon. She just needed a few minutes more…

Logan was getting impatient too. As soon as he saw the cracks appear on their protective cover caused by a lack of concentration of her part, he would strike at anyone who was near, knocking out one or two men. Danielle saw the advantage and allowed it to continue naturally. Although a large number still remained, at least six men were not getting back up. However, she knew that Logan was bored with this, ready to let go and focus her efforts elsewhere, especially on the knife jammed in the lock of the truck.

"Ready?" Danielle needed to know when to run.

"Been waiting for you," Logan answered gruffly.

She grinned. "Let's go then."

 _Will you wait until it all burns down?  
Will you hide until it all burns down?  
Will it hurt when it all burns down?  
Will you fight when it all burns down?  
Will you stand when it all burns down?  
Will you love when it all burns down?  
Will it end when it all burns down?  
Will you just let it all burn down?_

 _How long can you stand the pain?  
How long will you hide your face?  
How long will you be afraid?  
Are you afraid? Oh…  
How long will you play this game?  
Will you fight or will you walk away?  
How long will you let it burn?  
Let it burn, let it burn…_

 _Let it burn, let it burn…  
Let it burn, let it burn…  
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh…_

Everything happened so fast that Danielle didn't even know what had conspired until she again reached the first vehicle, a pile of bodies behind her maimed by herself and Logan. As Logan protected her from behind and tossed aside any threats, she unlocked the door and opened it, climbing in to check to see if there were any keys. None were visible, but were on a body maybe. Exiting and ordering the group to stay put, she checked the other two vehicles and found the same problem. By the time she finished, debris was flying from the house. They had to move the trucks as soon as possible before they too caught fire.

Danielle met Logan in the yard, next to the front flower garden that Shannon had planted and created years before. "We need to leave," she said plainly. Find any keys anywhere?"

Logan held up three sets of keys (thinking the same thing Danielle was), dangling them from his bloodied claws. He tossed them at Danielle with a flick of his wrist, retracting the metal as he did. From there, Danielle raced back to hand them to anyone who was strong enough to drive. She directed whoever took over back to the military base in Westchester, stating that they will tag them later and ensure that nobody followed in the meantime.

Afterward, she stepped back, watching as the three trucks started and then trooped away, disappearing up the hill. Wordlessly, she then stepped over the dead captors, joining with Logan. He had been observing the fire, his emotions in check and his face unreadable. He too had many memories here, a lot of them good and bad as well. Danielle could not gauge what he was thinking or feeling, choosing instead not to pry. Instead, she held her breath, watching the flames for hours until her home became a smoldering ruin. By nightfall, when a light rain started to fall, the lingering flames died away, smoke rising thickly around them.

Now it was time to check for Jay. Without warning, Danielle dashed forward in what used to be the front porch, feeling her wet boots sink through the soft, charred wood. Sharp edges scratched against her denim pants, ripping into her skin. She even screamed Jay's name, hoping that he would send something… _anything_ …that would indicate that he was alive. Not even caring anymore, she ripped her hands apart pulling hot boards away, her hands almost molted into the warped plastic that came apart when it was touched.

Logan yelled out Danielle's name constantly, rushing after her and tripping over the same things she did, asking her to come back and to act reasonably. She ignored it, desperate to find that blue and silver spark she was familiar with and to be reunited with her brother. It had been too long since she had seen Jay, with very short periods where they saw each other and then were unceremoniously pulled apart. No, it was impossible to think that the ex-Army brother of hers was dead. _He could not be!_

Finally, after about an hour of wading through the disorder and avoiding Logan, Danielle thought she saw something and where the basement used to be. Struggling to get through, she only managed to get to where the top of the stairwell was, her feet almost slipping down the hole that did not have an aide. The wooden steps were gone, but the rain started washing away what was left that covered that hole, leaving behind a ledge to climb into.

Using the bulging rock wall and foundation that held the underground room together, Danielle ascended down, Logan behind her. The two silently ran through the small space and stopped together simultaneously before a figure encased in the same bubble-like protection they had earlier. While the water from above splashed away the ash that used to cover it, the person inside of it was familiar and moving.

Finally freed, Jay wobbled from his fetal position and collapsed into a heap on the cement floor, his hands dropping an item. Danielle kneeled before her brother, relieved to find that he was hardly alive, and picked up whatever it was he released. While soggy and almost destroyed, Danielle recognized it as the Edgar Allan Poe volume that Jay had given her years before, to give her comfort during a hard time in her life. The page it was opened to was bookmarked with a green ribbon, containing the last stanza of the poet's most epic work.

 _And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting  
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;  
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,  
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor,  
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor  
Shall be lifted – nevermore!_

* * *

 **I normally do not post twice in the same night (especially within two hours of the last chapter and getting lengthier in my chapters), but here you all go. Again, thank you so much for reading this. I appreciate everyone of you giving me traffic. :) However, credit goes where it should be too. Above lyrics are from the Red song, "Let It Burn". The last verse just above is from Edgar Allen Poe's "The Raven".**


	51. Coming Full Circle

It was a scandal that erupted when Logan and Danielle returned to the military base in Westchester. Without previous authorization, Logan had been tagged as entering the country illegally and was shortly set to questioning and possible arrest. This alone was enough to have him imprisoned for life (since he couldn't exactly die) and make their credibility shaky at the very least. As Danielle was treated for burns and her shoulder was re-stitched and her brother sent to an ICU, she watched the doorway from her bed and glanced in the general direction of the hallway. Logan was being held and yelled at in a room secured a short distance away.

Oh, it was too easy to eavesdrop. There was no way to avoid listening to the screaming match between Logan and the officer. Mostly it was the latter, but that was normal. The captain was said to have a high temper and always saw treason in every action and word. There was no chance that Logan would be cowed by the intimidation though and he was as masterful in petitioning his case, cold as his tone was. However, the captain was not convinced and already threaten jail time in a forgotten hole at some frozen tundra.

Danielle was not going to allow Logan to sit for years in a cell, forgotten in the dark and cold. He had protected her and saved countless lives at the same time, even if he could not show that he cared. She owed him that much.

Her burns were not that bad and the pain was nothing compared to what had been experienced in the past. She was more than willing to sneak out of the infirmary and haggle for Logan's freedom with this knowledge, but came up with something better. She waited until nobody was looking and all attention was on Jay (or ears went to the walls nearby). She pretended that she was resting, a blanket curled up to her chin, reading the frayed Edgar Allen Poe book, skimming through the delicious lines to find comfort before the next trials. One jumped out at her and she quickly read it before seeing her chance.

 _Take this kiss upon the brow!  
And, in parting from you know,  
Thus much let me avow –  
You are not wrong, who dream;  
Yet if hope has flown away  
In a night, or in a day,  
In a vision, or in none,  
Is it therefore the less gone?  
All that we see or seem  
Is but a dream within a dream._

 _I stand amid the roar  
Of a surf-tormented shore,  
And I hold within my hand  
Grains of the golden sand –  
How few! Yet how they creep  
Through my fingers to the deep,  
While I weep – while I weep!  
O God! Can I not grasp  
Them with a tighter clasp?  
O God! Can I not save  
One from the pitiless wave?  
Is all that we see or seem  
But a dream within a dream?_

Danielle closed the thick volume, setting it down on the table next to her as she kicked her covers off. She flagged down a nurse and asked for her dose of pain medication (one that would be putting her to sleep), although it had been maybe an hour before that she received it and fought against its gross side effects. The woman did not suspect a thing, handing Danielle the pills without a thought and bringing a glass of water. Once her back was turned, Danielle smuggled them into her pocket for later usage. She waited a few minutes before she walked out of the infirmary, pretending to be part of the crowds that ambled through.

Clenching the glass of water tightly like it was a natural occurrence, Danielle made her way to the interrogation room. Reaching into her pocket upon her arrival, she crushed the pills between her fingers (wincing as they brushed against her bandaged hands) and quickly tossed the dusty remains into the drink, stirring it with her aching finger until it was clear again. She then knocked, handing it to the guard who answered and listened to a range of rants and curses from him, most of them directed at her interfering when orders had been that the conversation was private. Then, the door was slammed shut.

 _Mission accomplished._

Danielle returned to her bed, glad that nobody noticed her presence had been missing. She laid down on top of her blankets trying to relax, even though her mind swirled with all of the events that happened this past week. She went from prisoner to fighter and all of them with a push. It was overwhelming, even having her tear up having to deal with the sudden changes. Danielle quickly wiped it away, admonishing herself. She needed to keep her strength up, not just for herself and her children, but also for Jay as well.

The best part was that it didn't take long for Logan to be freed too, which was a plus. Within the hour, whispers had been said around her that the captain had been incapacitated, dragged out of the interrogation by his own men. Jokes had been eagerly exchanged about how the drool had pooled on the floor and how drugged he was, but everyone dismissed it as him being overworked. It means that the plan worked, much to Danielle's elation, and it might be to her advantage. The next person in line was less strict than the captain had been. Indeed, she did not need to wait long before she received a visit from him too.

Lieutenant Greg Sanders (a familiar and friendly figure to Danielle since her arrival a few days before) entered the wing and noticed her immediately. He took his hat off, tucking it under his left arm, and made his way to her, nodding to everyone who greeted him on the way. He then took the chair next to the bed, amused to see Danielle appearing so innocent and wrapped up in her own world. Indeed, she was back to pretending she was reading Edgar Allen Poe.

"I came here to understand that I was going to be talking with some innocent dictator's widow, but I think we've all met our match." Sanders smiled, broader especially when Danielle averted her eyes from the poetic lines. "Mrs. Ellis, I cannot express how grateful we are that you came."

Firebird gave me no choice." Danielle shrugged her shoulders, which agitated the old wound. She also felt alarmed at being referred to by her married name, but she let that go. "I had to do something."

"You do realize that you cannot stay here for a while. You need to settle back in Canada until the outrage dies down."

" _What_? I cannot come home?"

"It would be political suicide at the moment, Mrs. Ellis, so I advise you calm down. A lot of people are still sore over your dead husband's…well, his _administration_ and how he handled his affairs as head of this country. Right now, his empire of money had expanded and equates to millions of US dollars and that needs to be kept secret. However, since he willed it to his cousin in the end and Peter Ellis has been found dead later that night, it automatically goes to you and your sons."

Danielle bristled. "I don't want his blood money. Give it to his victims' families."

"You may not have a choice, Mrs. Ellis. You can do with it as you please, whether for yourself or for your guilty conscience." Sanders looked at Danielle severely, unused to outbursts.

Danielle did not like Sanders' new tone, frowning. "Regardless, why are we being housed in Canada for the time being? When can we live in New York again?"

"Not anytime soon, I'm afraid. The Canadian government made a deal with Roger Mortimer and one that we decided to put a finger on. You all will remain up north until such a time that the political climate here cools down or when we feel the X-Men team is needed. Then, you can go home to Salem Center."

"And my services?"

"Will be rewarded when we feel the time is apt."

"I do not want it either. I only wondered if you're going to be calling me out of retirement more often."

"We may. If we pan this carefully though, nobody will remember that Danielle Ellis was company to the atrocities and civil war the country had faced for over ten years. She will be the anonymous Danielle Mitchell again."

"I did nothing of the sort!" Danielle was outraged, fueled by angry thoughts and images of people who thought the worst in her. "I was not a party to anything my husband did. _Never!_ I did what I was bid to do, mostly sewing clothes, watching my children and staying in my rooms. Afterward, he locked me away and I was never privy to his plans ever again."

"The truth and the rumors are always two different, albeit interesting, stories." Sanders smiled, trying to alleviate some of the hostility between the two. "Now, Mrs. Ellis, we can discuss the terms once you have calmed yourself. Obviously, you're leaving here tomorrow morning before a riot breaks out and you're killed. Your mission is completed and considered a success."

Danielle snorted. _Still laughable to think that people can kill me!_

"Nonetheless, it would also save some lives and some of what is left of our patience," Sanders continued, his smile turning upside down for a second time. "The question now is what to do with your friend, James Howlett."

"Logan," Danielle corrected quickly. "His name has and always will be Logan."

Sanders waved his hand in dismissal. "Whatever his name is, Mrs. Ellis, he still came over the border illegally and would not give a reason why past it was a promise to someone he knew a long time ago. The captain grilled him on his other activities and we got nowhere. Think you can shed some light on him?"

"Dedicated, loyal and undefeatable. You don't want to cross him."

"I've… _noticed_. A threat to us?"

"Only if you aren't playing nice and fair."

"Your assessment is impartial. I think we can release him. The captain was a little misplaced in his suspicions anyway. I know where this Logan character has been and what he has done. The Canadian government can have him back."

Danielle's heart sank. "He can't leave Canada either? Ever again?"

"Not unless he applies for citizenship, if and when we get the government developed better and we're on our feet." Sanders stood up, putting his hat back on. He waved a farewell. "Mrs. Ellis."

Danielle wordlessly said her goodbyes too. Sanders did not see it (or chose not to) and departed. He did not realize that his statements broke Danielle into a million pieces, even if they were sound. She still had feelings for Logan, no matter how he felt and who he was nowadays, and it would be horrible to know that he won't be allowed back in the US until he complies with the usual immigration laws. Beforehand, he always snuck in and out and the Professor had a good smokescreen to keep him around. _Now_? He was on paper and no longer able to roam freely again.

Dusk soon fell. Danielle felt the need to communicate with Xavier before the medication from hours ago kicked in and knocked her out when she could no longer keep her powers functioning as a shield. He had anxiously been awaiting her report and it was more private to tell him everything anyway and without interference and nosy people too. She closed her eyes, pretending in the fading light that she was contemplating sleep, and found her mentor alone in his office.

Xavier did not feel that she was intruding and welcomed the presence. _Danielle! How are things?_

 _Safe and sound._ Danielle had no reason to lie, even if she did not want to mention Logan. _We've found Jay alive._

 _Good to hear._ Xavier suddenly turned stern and parental. _How did it go otherwise?_

 _They get younger every year, Professor. They're all dead and three trucks of people, mutant and human, are still breathing because of us._

 _And Logan?_

 _How did you know he came?_

 _Logan has been missing and we all assumed that he went after you. Roger also is a horrible gossip and I cannot help but laugh at his stories._

Danielle grinned. _What else is new?_

 _Are you coming home soon?_

 _Yes. A full report will be presented when we're back._

 _I'll let Devon know you're alive. Have a good night, Danielle._

When Xavier broke the connection, Danielle felt very empty inside. She looked to the entranceway to the ICU for reassurance that she knew would not come anytime soon. Jay was beyond that door, staying in there as an anonymous entity and without the stigma of being labeled as the dictator's mutant brother-in-law. He was hardly breathing in there, hooked to so many machines that Danielle lost count. However, they were ready to pull the plug on him if he decided that he did not want to live anymore and remain in his coma-like state.

It would be difficult to be apart from him again, but at least he was nearby and he was alive for the most part (and difficult to be near if and when he dies). There was no doubt that she felt relief being reunited with the sharer of her powers. However, it would be a longer road to recovery for Jay and the soon, he'll have best reunion of all if he woke up – the one with his wife.

Fiona had been waiting for word for years about Jay (just as he had with her when she went missing), never losing the one spark of hope she had. Jay was the only person she could count on being alive and to spend the rest of her life with. Together, they would grow old together and perhaps think back on the short time they were happy and a family, with or without their son.

 _It would be so hard for all of us to start over again._

Danielle could think on the possibilities and those were infinite. So much had been lost and too many people had died or were missing. Some organizations kept count, even if the efforts had been too late or too little, and they offered little comfort. Others had done their best to tally and recount what had occurred in the dozen years since Leon Ellis had taken over. Regardless, millions of lives had vanished and it was partially their fault. They had been unable to stop it initially and this was the result of it.

Before long, she fell asleep, her mind circling around the concept of blame and fault and the vicious circle it brought. Some hours later, before dawn rose, she was shaken awake by the nurse on shift. Immediately, she was informed that she and Logan would need to leave the premises immediately and drive back to Canada. Roger had managed to get through with a car and was ready outside to take them.

Danielle wanted to ask the nurse how Roger was and gauge the situation, but she was too tired to bother. She obliged, gathering her things, including her Poe book, and slipping through the back door. In the parking lot, she spotted the master spy. Logan was next to him, smoking his customary cigar while listening to some rant. Inside the vehicle was Fiona, her face anxious. The Mitchell wife saw Danielle and waved her over frantically, her eyes telling her a story of anticipation and determination.

While the men ignored the women (obvious by the way Roger was giving Logan a piece of his mind), Danielle took the opportunity to greet her sister-in-law and give her a weak smile, which had been returned. She had not seen Fiona in some years, hardly in her presence her in the long captivities they had both endured, both by distance and through their minds. She took the sickened hand, gripping it with reassurance, and whispered that there was good news.

"Is it Jay?" Fiona didn't want to seem hopeful and glanced at Danielle in what appeared to be a childish wish.

Danielle nodded. "He's in ICU right now."

Fiona let out a deep breath in relief, something that she had been holding in. Ever since she had been captured on that fateful Christmas Eve, she had been waiting for this crucial moment. Now, in the time since she had been rescued from that camp, she could hardly believe her luck. It was a dream to be reunited with Jay, a sweet one at that, and she fervently desired in her heart that it would be true.

"Any chances of survival?" Fiona had to know.

"If he had his way," Danielle replied humorously. "I'm sure Jay will live though, Fiona. He's too stubborn not to."

It was like a ton of bricks hit Fiona in the face, the shock was so evident. However, the smile on her face brightened and widened. With shaky legs, she stood up against her seat, using Danielle as a support. Then, she released the grip of off her hand, grabbing the car door and hobbling forward. When Danielle moved out of the way, Fiona felt more empowered than she had since returning to New York. One step after another and without support, she drew closer to the door that Danielle came out of and to Jay.

By then, Fiona had caught Roger rand Logan's attention. As the latter's cigar smoldered in-between his fingers, the woman who everyone thought would never walk again inched onward without assistance, only gazing back for a second at them, the fading stars above her illuminating her happiness. Once she disappeared inside, the three stared at the entranceway a little longer, each having their own silent excuse as to why they were not moving yet.

It had been the first time Fiona had mobilized herself since she was a young mother, stationed on a military base with Jay. She had finally come full circle.

* * *

 **The poem is Edgar Allen Poe's "A Dream Within a Dream".**


	52. Winter Storms

**December 16, 2007**

Over four months had passed since the day in Dallas that changed the world forever. As the Christmas season approached and with it, more snow and freezing temperatures, the residents of the safe house continued on with their lives like nothing had happened and they had not been instrumental in this second turning point. Letters had been exchanged back and forth between them and the remaining team, most of them already settled in various parts of the newly-developed United States. The boundaries transformed back to its former glory and the military convened as a group power, delegating tasks as the Black Serpents had done before them.

It was a relief. As Danielle sat by the window with a cup of coffee and Jay's latest letter early one morning, she thought back to those times and shivered. It wasn't just the cold that was bothering her. It was her personal life. She felt she had no direction anymore and watching everyone around her blossom under the new administration and get on with their lives was disconcerting. Xavier told her not to worry and that her time will come, but Danielle doubted it regardless of the positive outcomes yet to show themselves, especially as the snow fell and the wind picked up outside her window.

She felt especially alone, even if Devon was always giving her attention. Michael and Riley had not been found yet, although Magneto had sent word every so often, telling her what he was doing and why. He had traveled to all of the known places Ellis had hidey holes, he wrote in one letter, and was following someone who used to be in his cabinet to others that nobody knew about. It made Danielle shudder to think that they had not been fast enough and had hardly the time to see to two children under the age of ten. Worse, they could be wandering the country in search of her, a horrible thought that she had to turn aside.

There was also her love life. Ever since Logan departed from their company as soon as they returned to Canada, she felt like somebody had ripped a large part of her heart out and stomped on it with glee. She had been hoping that he would come to terms with what had happened and they would reconcile. However, he said nothing on the trip back with Roger (even as the master spy griped about hotheaded people who undergo illegal activities) and had disappeared as soon as they rolled into the driveway. He had not been seen or heard from ever since.

Trying to blink back her tears, Danielle glanced back at Jay's words, so full of hope and happiness. He and Fiona had been living together in a little house in Westchester, rented out to them by a kind official of the area, and were making plans to rebuild the farmhouse in Salem Center. He loved being closer to home, away from the base and being free from the memories of a broken family, his dishonorable discharge and much more. He and Fiona were also filling each other with stories of their past without the other and making up for lost time.

 _You have no idea, little sister, how glad we are to be here and to move forward. However, there's always one thing wedged between us, something that I cannot even write of now. I think we'll get there one day, when we're ready and eager to recall a life that we had to leave behind. I would very much wish to see – well, I'll tell you later._

And the letter went on and on about inane things, especially with the lack of snow and cold and how walks in the woods transformed into pleasant hours (no sorrows) with Fiona. Danielle again had to force herself not to cry with jealousy and despair. She knew what Jay and Fiona had been missing. It was Jax, taken away as a baby and never seen afterward. They had no paper trail as to where he was taken. Danielle did not think that Ellis would have had the child killed, especially before he rose to his fullest powers, but she believed that he hid Jax as far away as he could and with a family that did not care about him.

Hank and Roger's sudden entry into the house merited some attention. Danielle did not see it as aspiring, although she knew them to be looking for Logan and that their search ended without results. Their long trip to Quebec and back might have yielded some information though and that was a little encouraging. Indeed, the way the two looked made Danielle think that they had something to lead on and that it was a good sign. Roger had been pulling out what had been left of his hair otherwise, annoyed that Logan ran off like he did again.

 _Again…_

"Where's Charles?" Hank asked Danielle.

"In his office, I would assume," Danielle replied crisply, tucking Jay's message away in her pocket. She would revisit the old wounds later. "Why?"

"Because he doesn't need to know at the moment," Roger answered instead, shucking off his winter gear by a nearby chair. "I think you should."

The statement made Danielle shudder. "What do you need me for?"

"Nothing unusual," Hank reassured her. "We only want to talk to you alone."

Danielle felt boxed in and cornered, extremely still in her seat as a deer caught in the headlights. "What about?"

"Logan."

"What about him?"

"It seems he ran into some trouble with the Canadian government. Nothing serious. He just needs someone to vouch for him so he can be released from his cell."

"What did he do? Why can't you and Roger do it?"

Roger interjected this time, ignoring the first question, she noticed. "Seems like our word isn't enough to get him out. He also will not listen to us anyway."

"And my word is good? My powers the only way out?" Danielle snapped, feeling frustrated and used. "I'm the widow of an infamous dictator and a mutant, no less. What makes the Canadian government think that I'm the best there is?"

"Because they understand your circumstances," Hank explained gently, hoping that Xavier was not listening in the other room. "Technically, you are innocent of all charges the US military and the people have made against you. To them up here, your word is more than golden."

"What kind of charges are we talking about? What have I done to merit them?"

"Too numerous to count, Danielle. Just calm down and listen because that is not the point. Now, you're going to have to travel to Quebec with us. Logan is held in a cell at their main municipal building. Talk to him and the person in charge and voila! He will be freed."

"What exactly did he do?"

Roger grimaced at the repeated inquiry, but Danielle also saw a smirk run across his face. "We'll leave that for later."

Danielle sighed. She was tired of running and traveling. For four months, she had led a peaceful existence, filled with days longing for her sons and Logan, playing with Devon, discussions with Xavier and even card games with various people in the household. She, Jean and Storm had even rekindled their friendship and used night after night to talk and catch up. She and Scott already got into their first argument since the last time they saw each other (Scott had managed to get hung on the ceiling by his back shirt collar, much to everyone's chagrin). Mae even wormed her way back to Danielle's graces, begging time and again for her to slow down and to settle in.

It was never the finale, especially in the prime of her life, she knew. She was promised a home and would return to the US in due time. However, even she, a mother by nature and assassin by training, had to be patient. Logan was just another hurdle and one that she had to go over in order to find closure, no matter the outcome. What other choice did she have other than to accept this next assignment and to get over it? How else would life go on if she was not used in some manner or another?

"I take it that this is an assent?" Hank was optimistic.

"Well, I can't exactly deny," Danielle admitted. "I'm up for grabs these days and nobody likes to leave me alone in peace."

Roger was visibly relieved. "Tomorrow morning we go?"

"Can Devon come with me?" Danielle was not leaving him behind again. She wished for some companionship that didn't include adults and would have her focus attention on a child. Otherwise, Devon would be devastated she would not be around.

"Do we have to bring –" Roger began tartly.

Hank put a hand over Roger's mouth to quiet him. "Yes. We'd be more than honored to have Devon tag along. I'm sure there are teenagers his age he can hang out with."

When Hank moved his hand, it was apparent that Roger was angry. Danielle suppressed a laugh, instead watching as the master spy decided to shot Hank a dirty glance before leaving for his room. Hank shrugged his shoulders and did the same, although the backwards gaze at her was a little reassuring and told her that all would be well. While Danielle tended to disagree with the sentiment, her heart was racing. A chance to see Logan was one that she wanted, but she was also dreading it at the same time.

She could ask herself why many times over and could not answer it. The only one she had was that she was still in love with him and she could never let go. That was the best her mind could come up with…and that alone now becoming the worst feeling of her life.

~00~

Despite the early morning wake-up and traveling, the trip to Quebec was eventless. The four trekkers – Roger, Hank, Danielle and Devon – arrived at the police station in Quebec City, choosing a taxi from the train station rather than walking through the subzero temperatures and snow that caked the city. They were deposited at their location and entered the building. Next, they were identified and directed to a downstairs interrogation room. Devon soon became bored, so Danielle managed to get a friendly officer to give up their computer for gaming purposes.

This left her with Roger and Hank. When they settled into their destination, they took seats around a metal table, waiting for their negotiator. When Sanders entered, Danielle relaxed, but only a little. Seeing the lieutenant after a few months was familiar, albeit strange. Why Sanders had business in Canada, she could not tell, but he seemed to be Logan's guardian angel if his finger was in every piece of pie.

 _Great…_

"Gentlemen," Sanders began as he took the chair opposite of the trio. "Mrs. Ellis."

Danielle wasted no time getting to the bottom of the issue. "What's happened?"

"Does the name of Victor Creed ring a bell with anyone?" Sanders asked instead, eying the three severely and accusingly.

Roger dared to put himself forward, clearing his throat. "I tracked Sabretooth – Victor Creed – over the years and lost him when the Ellis fiasco began in the late eighties. What's he got to do with the price of rice in China?"

"Just a troublemaker, nothing more." Sanders' answer seemed an understatement and that the person in question was their main interest. "He and… _Logan_ …destroyed a farm north of here. They were not working together, more like fighting each other. The results were devastating, mostly caused by Creed. A couple and their children had been killed. Their far was torched and salted."

"Brothers," Roger muttered under his breath.

"Exactly," Sanders said, hearing what the master spy mumbled. "This Creed character has yet to be caught, but his brother was. _Logan_ isn't exactly charged with anything. He's in timeout, if you want to call it that."

Hank had to mask a laugh with a cough. "So, you're holding Logan here until you find Creed?"

"Or at least release him to his friends, who are more likely to keep him under control." Sanders smiled, especially at Danielle. "Can't be too careful, even if he was considered a part of the government program some years back."

"Which one?" Danielle was curious.

Roger was about to say something and had muttered the name of William Stryker, but Sanders cut him off before more details spilled out, nodding at him and Hank to clear out of the room. "A word alone, Mrs. Ellis."

Danielle agreed, even if she did not trust the situation. When she did not have company with Sanders anymore, she leaned forward, hands folded together. "So, Lieutenant, Why did you truly need me? You could have just used Roger and be done with it."

"And have the infamous spy be mauled on his way out?" Sanders hooted his merriment. "Mrs. Ellis, you're hilarious and a real trip."

"That's bad?" Danielle's heart sank.

"A pacing and wild animal," Sanders confirmed. "We figured, with your powers and your personal association with this Logan person, you could possibly get him out safely before he hurts more of my men. He's not under arrest, but he's kept captive to prevent him from hurting."

"Himself or the others?"

"All of the above, I'm afraid. Like I said, he has gotten a few of men here good with his adamantium claws, which we can all thank William Stryker for. He can't…well, you probably know he can't exactly do anything to kill himself."

Danielle nodded evenly, understanding. "When can I see him?"

Sanders motioned to the door. Danielle took that as her cue, allowing the lieutenant to take the lead and take her down odd dark hallways and stairwells. In what seemed to be forever (and sometimes with some stumbling over old and out of place items), Danielle was soon stopped before a metal doorway, bearing deeply-etched claw marks, made from the outside and in. Sanders unlocked it and ushered her inside, leaving her in there alone and turning the key to lock it again. He had managed to open a small hole though, his eyes watching the action.

Danielle adjusted her eyesight since the room had been brighter compared to the corridors she had ambled through. Once she did, she realized that she had been pushed into what was literally a lion's den. While Logan was not quite as ferocious as one, he was still menacing, what had been his pacing stopped and his claws out. He sniffed the air, testing to see what kind of threat was now in his domain, and inched forward slowly towards Danielle.

It was safer to assume that Logan was out of his mind and did not recognize anyone, the way his hair ran wild, his body shackled for survival and his eyes aimlessly observed without thinking. Danielle immediately placed a silver and blue bubble between her and Logan, jerking back in horror and almost losing her control as he rushed to her and tried stabbing it again and again, shaking his head as he was zapped. Through the thick electric-tinted cover, she could hear him roaring in frustration, unable to comprehend why he was able to harm others and not this one person.

 _Think, think, think! What would the Professor and Jean do?_

It was an inquiry and a good one at that. She was not sure what Xavier or Jean would have done in this case because it was a difficult decision to call and one that she did not relish making. There was no way to defeat Logan physically, that much was certain. However, she could deactivate the animal side of his mind and have him become putty in her hands. That way, it would be an easier road to bring him back his humanity, even though it would violate all morale codes she grew up with.

Danielle had to pull from a well of energy from Jay, something that alarmed him. While he tried his best to tell her off and say that it wasn't worth it to save Logan (since he himself was still recovering and might not have enough), she managed to channel the power from him to her and then to Logan. Her concentration was difficult though, puzzling over which pathway in Logan's mind to follow as she held onto her own protective bubble at the same time.

Xavier had been right, Danielle mused as she worked. The human mind (other than one's own, which was complex itself) was that of a maze, with so many twists and turns and dead ends, most of them unresolved problems or memories. Feeling overwhelmed, she tried delegating whose power went where and relaxed. While she held onto the bubble with her own energy, she used Jay's to navigate, soon reaching the point where she needed to be. It was a small part of Logan that transformed him into a monster, time and again. A simple flip of a switch would change it.

Exhausted after the ordeal, she dropped her defenses and made her way out and released Jay, closing her eyes. This allowed Logan in surprise to drop his full weight on top of her, which was no feat since the metal in his body maintained that he remained very heavy. The open claws hit both sides of her head, ensuring that she was trapped, and he groaned in her ear as his head hit hers, feeling just as breathless as she was. Even between the two, the atmosphere was still and silent. Nobody moved, not even Sanders, who was still observing through the peephole in the door.

Once Danielle had recovered enough, she tried pushing Logan off of her, but was unable to. Deciding to open her eyes to assess the damage and try harder, she attempted once more to shove him off of her. There was no way. Claws soon retracted, Logan had already slumped himself against her body, hiding against her shoulder as his face planted itself into the thick fabric.

At first, Danielle could not tell what was happening, she was so dazed and dizzy. However, it was too easy to see that Lohan was emotionally spent. Her wet shirt was proof of that.

~00~

Christmas and come and gone and a New Year was soon upon the group. As they found themselves barricaded into their house on the last day of the year, a circle formed around the holiday tree they set up in the middle of the living room. As the children drifted off to sleep and the adults chatted and laughed, waiting for the clock to strike the long-awaited hour of midnight, Danielle had to think. She sipped some coffee, talking animatedly with Jean and Ororo next to her, and pushed back her morbid thoughts, most of them revolving around the man who was missing and currently isolating himself in the basement once more.

"What are you planning for the New Year?" Ororo was curious.

"Enrolling the children in an actual school maybe," Jean replied smoothly, finishing her hot chocolate with a slurp that made her sound childish. "I believe that we'd be stuck here for another year unless something changed. Scott and I need to make alternative plans otherwise, maybe sticking around here and homeschooling."

Mae joined in on the conversation, feeling unusually jolly. "Get another job. Become a sound member of the community. Kick my son out."

"I want to see more of Canada and get Matthew out of the house," Ororo added when the two looked at her. "I think it would help us immensely."

"Danielle?" Jean nudged the forlorn woman at the side. "What about you?"

"Huh?" Danielle put her cup down on the table, her hand still on the handle. "Well, there's so much I want to do. I think I'll leave that to your imaginations though."

Danielle then got up and started cleaning up the mess around the tree, all the while blocking anyone from knowing her inner turmoil. She smiled, laughed and nodded otherwise, trying to act as normally as she could, but all the while, her heart was breaking. There was still no word about Michael and Riley and most certainly no change in Logan. The help was offered. Nothing was progressing or moving forward and no letters had brought any good news.

She thought that this upcoming year would change nothing. In her first five months of freedom, most certainly everything had stayed the same except for a small ray of sunshine. The only consolation – her hope – was that she had Devon, a growing teenager that was filling her time with love and her mind with ease. Even his sleeping form on the couch was reassuring, a sign of the innocence that she wished she had.

With an expert waitressing hand, Danielle managed to grab everyone's plates and mugs and brought them to the sink in the kitchen. She continued on her route towards normalcy still, turning on the water and starting to scrub them. All the while, she pondered upon the future and what it would bring her, just as Ororo asked. She only wished that it would exceed her expectations, but those had been low. She could not expect much else.

And with so few things to look forward to, what was her life for anyway? And why should she have bothered?


	53. Turning the Tables

**April 29, 2008**

It was a difficult winter and spring was hardly excited about coming. As the snow continued to drip into muddy swirls around the yard and turn the flooded streets brown, the house remained as busy as ever. While almost everyone had finally found their niche and had been working to prove themselves people worthy of return to their mother country, there were some that had just moved on with their lives with the lot given to them. The busiest had been Teller and Roger. The former had been elated about the reopening of his bar for the third time (with Xavier's help) and the latter had been anxious about another growing movement that he alone was in charge of overseeing.

Roger had wanted some action done this winter, but with the weather so horrible, he was loathe to move and felt lethargic sitting around for months. Instead, he studied this new assembly, another bunch of youthful maniacs who were extremists separate from Ellis (and that was being nice), and he thought them too easy to abolish. He wanted his usual team to deal with it and received positive answers from two of them at least (Teller and Jay) and a negative from one because of personal reasons (Alex). However, he only had to wait for consent from two more people and they had been too busy in their misery that Roger would need to meet with them separately.

First, there was Danielle. A mother missing two of her children and doting on another for the time being (and for life by the looks of it), the Ellis widow had been attempting to dive into teaching the household children before September claimed them in a more public setting. She had also been inquiring about other things quietly, most of them about Michael and Riley and how Magneto was doing (since no letters had been forthcoming), and had been pretending to mind her own business when it came down to how the military government was doing.

Otherwise, Hank and Xavier had her on other assignments in her spare time, most of them involving some scouting in the towns when Devon was sleeping and perhaps taking a drink at the local bar…until someone asked if she was Danielle Ellis. By then, they had to stop since people were asking Danielle too many awkward questions and were inquiring why the widow was not mourning for her loss or celebrating like the rest of the world.

 _And they thought it would be easy to camouflage her. The silly fools do not know how plastered her face is on every public arena in the world._

And then, there was Logan. While released to them and only allowed to leave the town if the Canadian government said so (and that required a lot of annoying paperwork), he had been like a caged animal, but silent and in a worse condition than he was since the Ellis shooting. It was bothersome, but something Roger could work with, especially with the course of action to get Logan to interact again.

Initially, Logan had stuck to the basement and hardly spoke to anyone. Teller had been the only one to reach him, even if Xavier had tried the same tactics as before and did not succeed as well, backing down for the more familiar and like people in Logan's life. He had not been able to be a friend to Logan as he was before, more of a guiding hand more than anything, and remained less pushy than before.

Regardless, nobody had been able to gauge how Logan felt and if he was up to the task of running another mission. Roger felt that he was ready and would do all he could to make it happen. Indeed, he had already submitted the request to both heads of state (in Canada and in the US) for the pair to be part of this assignment, biting his nails every so often. While the Canadians were easier on Danielle, they were harsh on Logan. The same happened to Danielle in the US.

It was next a battle for Roger to explain their merits, any plans to make them as invisible as possible and having promises extracted from him that the two would behave themselves and only do what was necessary. That the master spy could agree to. It would be easy to keep Danielle out of trouble as she never liked courting it (it always came to her). Logan was the tricky one, the danger magnet even if he did not call for it. Roger was sure that something dramatic would come up and bite them in the ass…and that it would be one or the other.

In his upstairs office writing some correspondence to the US government one cold afternoon, Roger heard a knock on his door and called out to whoever it was on the other side. He continued his scribbling though, thinking it more important than a visitor to finalize the plans and send it via unofficial channels (having recruited more than he bargained for from the Black Serpents and having them continue on after all). While he noted that Teller sat before the desk, he went on ignoring the bar owner until he was done, sealing the envelope and making it a grand show of it.

"Gee, I feel so loved," Teller remarked to Roger when the communication was set aside.

"Part of the trade," Roger replied, feeling quite annoyed that he was interrupted. He preferred his wife for company these days, but she was busy with childish scrapes and tears. "What's going on?"

Teller shrugged his shoulders. "You tell me. Charles gave me what he could to help me get reestablished like last time, but even that isn't kicking off until we get there and wait for some amnesty and protection. Doesn't help that I don't have my crew. Speaking of which, hear anything about Snake Eyes yet?"

Roger sighed, anticipating the question. "Nothing yet. He disappeared off the map again. For all I know, the guy could have developed a personality, grabbed a wife and helped to pop out a million kids by now."

It took all of Teller's strength not to snort at the absurd statement, although he managed to smirk to show his amusement. Snake Eyes was said to have survived the trials since his capture over ten years before, but he had not been traced since. Roger combed through every registration and Red Cross paperwork in all towns and found nothing. Teller took it as the man was hiding out and testing out the political situation before poking his head out permanently. Then again, he never knew with his bouncer, who was as mysterious as the day Erik dropped him off, saying that Snake Eyes needed to be invisible and to never be put on paper again.

"Then, I want Jay Mitchell as my bouncer," Teller demanded. "Storm and Matthew need to handle lights and music. I want Rogue, Bobby and that metal guy for my cleaning crew. Danielle is entertainment, maybe with Jay or Jean perhaps. Alex can man the back rooms if Lorna would allow it. Logan can take his usual spot at the counter if he wants to. I will keep that set warm f I have to."

Roger sighed, now frustrated by the stipulations. "We can only handle a few things at a time," he said to Teller, trying to remain calm. "I have Jay and Fiona down there already, so you'll have your one bouncer back. Alex has already declined any involvement and is currently chasing Lorna across the country. Storm and Matthew have yet to be asked and I doubt they would want to reopen those wounds. Logan might be interested. Rogue, Bobby and Colossus though? _Really_? A bunch of kids?"

"Who are now adults," Teller reminded him. "You've picked up kids younger than them. Need I remind you of Danielle?"

"She was different," Roger declared hotly, sounding defensive. "She was ready and mature enough, a rare feat in someone. Training her was never a regret."

Now, Teller snorted. "Whatever, Firebird. You can pick and choose as you please, whenever the condition suits you. However, deal is mine to make. I want the whole crew or nothing."

"Even if Charles was willing to financially put you up for the second time?"

"Even then. However, I will be returning his money if that is the case. He won't be pleased."

"Alex is definitely a no-go. Are you willing to work with that?"

Teller took a second to think it over. "Yes. Lorna is a tough cookie anyway."

Roger was visibly relieved, tired of negotiating. "All right. If Matthew and Storm cannot make it, then who do you want?"

"Bring Scott and Jean and the family. I want them anyway, but that's not the point. I can take them all on."

"Like Scott will agree to that. Jean will be horrified."

"They can kiss my ass. I don't want to separate the families, them especially, and you need to deal with it. You're gonna have to take the hand you're offered or leave it. Same thing I told Ellis all those years ago."

Roger waved his hand in dismissal, thinking the sentimental statements trivial in this case. "We'll work on who is coming later. Care to get me the miserable couple?"

Teller knew who Roger was referring to. Getting up from his chair, he executed a mock salute and left, something that even made the master spy smile. It reminded him of times past when he thought the bar owner was a nuisance (and before Logan recruited him to their side of things), something that he quickly terminated as easily as Teller's soft decisions. He was impatient though, hoping to get Logan and Danielle onboard.

Roger only had to wait a few minutes before Logan entered first. He wasn't quite what the spy expected. He was wearing the same clothes he had for three months (he wasn't one for shopping and Mae and to sneak in measuring him for new clothing and boots, something that Logan did not notice or care about) and he didn't appear so disheveled as he had when he came back in December. He was stoic, displaying neither his usual displeasure when dealing with Roger nor his shining sarcasm to hide his beaming personality. His cigar smoking and beer drinking was still sorely missed too (that was a sure sign things weren't normal), even if Xavier banned both in the house.

Regardless, the petulance was still simmering underneath, especially when he crossed his arms. "What?" he asked Roger.

"Want to go back to New York for a while and legally this time?" Roger inquired in return, toying with a letter opener laying forlornly on his desk, balancing it between his fingers. "Got something for ya to play with."

"No." Logan was final about it.

Roger had to tempt him and try to corner him, although that was already a hard task. "Everyone says it's ok for you to go, s more being collared by the military. Besides, all you're doing in the same thing you've always done. You drink, you smoke, you laugh, haha, everybody goes home…and you get the information."

"No."

"Come on, Logan, this is kind of important. The military is taking steps to ensure that the US is back to what it used to be and that nobody stops it, even those little shits. Buildings are being reconstructed and people are being put forward as candidates for the positions we all know and love. People are rejoicing that the hard times are over. What is so wrong about watching one little group?"

"No."

Roger sighed quite dramatically. "This isn't going to hurt you. You're not doing as much as the others."

"Who?" This piqued Logan's interested at least. He raised his eyebrow.

"You'll see if you're coming, but I guess you aren't." Roger played it out that he was disappointed about the decision and even considered it good timing that Teller ushered Danielle in." Ahh, Danielle! I was just telling Logan that New York is the place to be right now."

"So, I've heard. What's your game today, Roger?" Danielle sighed, taking the seat that Teller recently vacated. "I've got a music theory class to teach in five minutes and the crowds are getting wild. I don't have time to chat."

"The finer details will come later, but the basics is that you've got permission to be in the US for a bit and nobody will be the wiser," Roger explained, ignoring Logan for the moment. "Change your name and maybe your bright fiery hair color and you'll be good to go. Got one of them set at least, so the dye is on you."

"Where am I going exactly and why now?" Danielle impatiently tapped her foot on the carpeted floor and copied Logan, arms across her chest.

"Teller and his bar are now the centers of attention and the race is on," Roger continued. "Usual spot, same pay. Got a cover name for ya too…Regina Raine…and Teller has decided to make an act out of it if you're willing to consent to going."

"Got posters up yet?"

"Yeah, but no picture attached to it because we weren't sure. We're hoping it'd be you who plays the part."

"When do you need me to leave?"

"Maybe in a few days, no more than a week. I can organize someone to cover your little classes if you're that concerned."

"I'll go, but Devon is coming with me."

"What?! No!" Roger was outraged at the demand and how the tables turned against him. He did not expect this monkey wrench. "No kids are allowed for the centers of attention."

"That or nothing," Danielle haggled. "I am not leaving Devon behind and having him wonder what happened to me or if our goodbye was the last. I can easily keep him hidden and he's had experience anyway. Compared to a baby or a young child, a teenager can make use of their surroundings and shut up."

Roger pursed his lips together thinly and cursed Danielle to himself (sure that she heard anyway, which made him glad she knew of his displeasure). He hated children being in the way, no matter the age, and she was the second to bring it up. He was glad to have had Gil when he was older and when the then-teenager was able to keep out of sight and away from Roger's scheming. It even made Roger proud when he heard that Gil had something that was him, with his electronic tinkering and spying and such. It was the closet he would get to saying that to Gil.

However, hearing everyone around him scream on about carrying their families around and making them a part of their fighting…what a ridiculous notion! However, if Teller was asking for some of the young adults to be doing some cleaning, then a teenager might have its advantages. Devon might be used for something else. Roger just had to figure it all out in his head.

"Fine," Roger decided, thinking to surprise Danielle. He licked his chapped lips, still planning it out. "We'll think of something for him to do."

Danielle smiled, similar to a predator looking at its prey. "Then, I'll go. Tell me what to pack and I'll provide the hair dye. I have a brunette color in mind."

Both Logan and Roger watched Danielle saunter out, seeing her somewhat cheered by the exchange. The former turned to the latter, refusing any output on the matter. Indeed, Logan had no words. He saw a ploy for Roger and how he could use everything to his advantage. That was the way the master spy always worked, even if it was against everything else and all that they stood for.

However, he also saw the happiness in Danielle's eyes. She was going home to Salem Center (even if it was for a little while), applauded on by the same people who vilified her when she was younger. Nobody had seen her in years. There was no chance of someone recognizing her or pointing out that she was the widow of their former infamous resident. Besides, it would have been too long for someone to remember the name of Danielle Mitchell unless they were a major townie anyway and there were very few left. Logan was sure of it.

Roger decided that the meeting was over, motioning at Logan to get out too. The master spy still wanted him to know that he was working this out with fewer players, but that it was a shame that Logan would not join as well. However, Logan did not obey Roger and only stared at the empty hallway, his face cocked to one side in an unreadable position. Roger could not interpret his thoughts, but he was sure that Logan had been caught by a hook…and that was always going to be Danielle.

"Heading out, Logan?" Roger resettled himself back into his chair comfortably and reached for some paper, intent on writing another communiqué, this time to the Canadian government. He did not like the new computers everyone insisted on having, but that was beside the point.

"Now," Logan only replied, not saying what he meant by it.

The implications were clear either way, Roger felt. As soon as he eyed Logan retiring from his office, he had to grin, victorious. He had won this round. Logan was traveling back to Salem Center.

~00~

It was so much warmer and the air echoed cleanliness and freedom, although they were still forty miles from what used to be New York City and its ghastly humidity and noise. The country and small town life in Salem Center rolled before them and had honestly had been sorely missed, although the people who populated it in the years leading up to the coup were not. All and all though, everything had changed from times of long ago and many people were either dead or had moved on.

However, as the vans rolled into the city lines and soon found its way towards the deserted downtown area, everyone felt nervous. Most of them had been disguised to hide who they were, making it easier to run from place to place and to work amicably with the current government in order to stay there permanently. The others, so openly showing their true faces, shook in anticipation and nervousness. It was going to be a long road towards reconciliation and reconstruction, but it had to begin with them.

Ororo and Danielle decided to remain in the vehicle with Scott and Jean and their children. While Matthew decided to ride in the other one behind them (claiming that the children were too rowdy and giving him a headache), he luckily missed out on the long and frustrating trip they had to endure because of Cable and Rachel. Devon had decided to keep to himself and not instigate this time, but even he too was trying his patience by the immature antics.

After the last time Rachel stuck some silly putty to the window and argued with Cable (narrowly missing Ororo's dyed black head), Danielle turned to her friend and tried her hardest not to grimace. Ororo returned the same gesture and the two even rotated over to Jean, imploring her to do something. While she tried her hardest, it was Scott who calmed the two. From that moment on and until they rolled into the back parking lot of the bar, they had some peace. As soon as the doors opened though, it was fair game.

It was a shock to see Salem Center up close. Danielle had not been within the downtown area in a handful of years, ever since she had been rescued the first time and after her mother's funeral. Even so, it was wrecked, a shell of what it was used to be. Distrustful merchants kept their doors and windows locked. Most of them still held the signs that would deny her entry anyway. Garbage flew across the sidewalks and streets and the warm brick buildings were grey with decay and colored otherwise with graffiti. A sad sight indeed, but it was hopeful, a blank canvas that could be painted over once things had started picking up again.

Scott stood next to Danielle as he held onto Rachel and Cable by their shirt collars. "Doesn't seem like home to me. I remember coming here when I was a kid, when Alex found me. It was more welcoming then and nobody really cared for someone like me. It was before…you know, all of that happened."

Danielle was quite surprised by his kind words and swallowed a forming lump in her throat. "I agree. Hopefully, in the near future, this can be what it used to be and more."

"You can't believe that," Scott replied, the annoyed tone returning. "Even now, I cannot."

"Not really," she admitted, "but I need something to believe in. You do too. I mean, we've come this far and stayed on path ever since. We might as well finish it."

Scott wanted to feel the same way, even though he was not fond of Danielle and wanted to be pessimistic. Indeed, she left his side, turning to greet the people coming in to meet their arrival. Jay and Fiona Mitchell had driven in from Westchester, some young adults joyfully exclaimed their glee at the arrival of some and the other children had joined in on the celebrating. Teller had even jumped out of the driver's seat of the second van and was announcing that drinks were on him, even soda for those who were underage.

Cable and Rachel were anxious to be with everyone else. Even though Scott grinded his teeth in irritation, one look from Jean in the corner allowed him to release the two. He obeyed her silent plea, watching as everyone went inside. When his feet soon planted him inside the musty bar, he had to glance around, memories overwhelming him. Alex was the one who was here more often than he was, but even so, the place held a charm that reminded him of easier and less dangerous times, especially after the near destruction of the world over twenty years prior to this.

Even so, Scott wanted to hold onto the same hope everyone else had. It seemed to be the only way to move on and to dispel the bitterness he had courted close to his heart for since he was a prisoner. He was a freed man today and would be for the rest of his life. Right now, there was no better way to do that than to take the broom that Jean offered and started sweeping away the dust on the floor.


	54. Until the Morning Light

For the next two weeks, anticipation had been building up and the advertising paid off tenfold. While Teller decided that a closed bar was best for business, cleaning continued and the natives in the town were so curious that they had to board up the windows and lock the doors to keep everything a secret. In the meantime, girls (mostly the runaways that Teller liked and sent messages for through his old system) signed up, music media was gathered and electricity installed to illuminate the stage and other corners and rooms.

Each person had their job. Between Devon, Rogue, Bobby, Colossus and Kitty, everyone in Salem Center had knowledge that the bar was reopening and with the same fanfare as it had before. Other than most of them making eyes at each other and sneaking off, Teller had a time with the older ones and keeping them on track (Devon was interested in a girl who walked by on purpose everyday). Cable and Rachel (with Jean and/or Scott with them) pasted posters all over the remaining telephone poles and even answered questions from weary people who thoughts it an extravagant expense. They became a curious pair though, especially when it was learned that they were mutants, causing more than a few curious whispers to break out.

Inside, everyone else cleaned, repaired, repainted and rebuilt everything else. While they were absent, the place had been trashed from vandals and negatives wishers, so much so that the bar owner was destitute when he learned that it might not happen. Finally, when the dream seemed to be more of a reality, Teller ordered supplies (a huge gamble since not too many companies existed for stock) and ordered the grand opening for a mid-May night.

All and all, it was starting to feel like home again, although so much had happened and nothing was going to be the same once the curtains flew open in their usual whip of excitement. However, it was a mutual feeling that everyone shared and one that even chased away the old wounds. By the time the place was back to its original standing (and that had taken more than just daytime hours to make it complete), everyone did not want their close comradery to end. The show must go on, as Teller reminded them, and everyone had to play their parts well.

The anxious hours ticked down and everyone took their places. When Jay allowed people inside at nine o'clock sharp, it was a small trickle that entered. That soon transformed into a standing-only space. Tables were quickly taken and the lights dimmed to a mysterious pallor. Talk increased and was friendly and social. The only emotion that was plain to see was Teller's, a smile on his face signaling that this was a success.

And all he had to do was watch the action from behind the counter. As Rogue, Jean and Kitty served as waitresses and Colossus and Bobby served drinks from the countertop, Teller felt the magic unfold before him. Granted, Matthew and Ororo could have done better with the lights (it was the best they could do under the circumstances), but for the first night, it seemed so surreal. He thanked Xavier time and again in his head, sure that it was heard from far away, that there was enough to make this happen and that it gave them a chance to be useful and not sitting in that cold hellhole in Canada.

By the appointed hour of eleven, the showgirls ended their song and dance routine. The men in the crowds (well, boys, if Teller had to be honest) hooted their pleasure and asked for their encore. While that had been denied, the substitute was soon to be in place. Danielle was putting on her makeup in the back room and would be up shortly.

Jay was inside before his sister's act though, torn away from his post outside. He sought Teller out, excited and out of breath, but the bar owner also noted that Jay was even a little shell-shocked about something that happened. He hoped that it was something good, but he never knew with Jay. That Mitchell always had more cards up his sleeve than his own sister.

" _What_?" Teller was annoyed that his bouncer took a flying leap from his door position, especially when he took a seat next to Logan.

"I think you'll be glad to hear that we have another bouncer," Jay announced. He reached for a spare glass nearby, blowing out imaginary dust. "JD available?"

"Get back out there! We've got people coming in!" Teller ordered, denying the alcohol by shoving the bottle of Jack Daniels away from Jay's reach. "I don't need you in here to get drunk. I need you checking IDs and allowing the privileged in."

"Well, if you want Snake Eyes to go away and –"

"Wait, Snake Eyes is back?!"

"The one and only. Now, JD please?"

Teller could not, _would not_ , believe it. He ran outside, pushing aside everyone, even customers who came in and had to squeeze between bodies. When he came back and walked in a daze on the dance floor, the smile on his face was broader. Jay could not help but return it when he met Teller's gaze, deciding then to serve himself to make the feeling remain. He was about to reach over, but Logan put a hand on his elbow to stop him.

"You serious?" The words were quiet and Jay had to strain his ears to understand what Logan was saying. "Snake Eyes returned?"

Jay nodded his head, uncomfortable that Logan kept his hand on him. "He just came up to me and told me that he'd take over. I didn't want to say no."

"How'd he look?"

"The same as always. It was like he took fifteen minutes for a break and waltzed right back into his job."

Logan retracted his hand slowly and returned to his drink, pretending not to care. This revelation came as no surprise or it shouldn't have been to anyone. Snake Eyes was a mysterious sort of guy, someone that even Roger had no dirt on (if he did, he was keeping it to himself). For him to reappear after so long meant that he had been watching the political and social climate very carefully after his escape…and he was taking his chances now.

Half an hour later, when the boyish demands became overwhelmingly in favor of mutiny because there was no skin showing, the main performance came on. Logan did not want to watch, preferring to keep to his only free beer pitcher. The voice was familiar and brought him back to a more innocent and dangerous time, but he had to push those aside. Behind him, the floor riled up and was cheering, Jay included, and being the loner gave him the opportunity to snoop around. The Mitchell sibling clapped along with the crowds as the opening lines echoed.

 _Simona, you're getting older.  
Your journey's been etched  
On your skin…_

 _Simona, wish I had known that.  
What seemed so strong,  
Has been and gone…_

 _I would call you up  
Every Saturday night  
And we'd both stay out  
Until the morning light.  
And we sang, "Here We Go Again"._

 _And though time goes by,  
I will always be  
In a club with you in 1973,  
Singing, "Here We Go Again"._

The mention of 1973 jarred something in Logan's mind. He dismissed it, chalking it up to his lack of memories in the initial days he had been exiled in Canada, and put his head low enough so that nobody could recognize him. His ears tuned into the noise, attempting to differentiate between the voices and what needed to be heard. He could not hear specifics above the acclaim, but that was fine because Teller already had the assigned room of their target in question.

Logan finished his drink, shoving the empty pitcher to the other end of the counter where Bobby was taking empty glasses and such, and got up, heading towards the entranceway to the back rooms. Teller had opened them up again and allowed the showgirls to make their professional home there after their show. Men and women lined up to see them and only so few went through with the proper price.

Jay had moved from his previous spot to the doorway, where he stood guard and took money. He noticed Logan and allowed him through, barring the rest of the line from entry until he was finished investigating. While it merited some cursing behind him, Logan shrugged it off, his footsteps taking him down the worn carpets and dark corners. He spotted Scott cleaning in a corner, his own ears perked without making it obvious, a change that Logan had not noticed. He was listening to a private conversation in a closed room, the words masked by a woman chatting. Scott then moved aside, allowing Logan the space to hear.

It was too easy to put two and two together. The group had used Teller's bar (amongst other places that Logan made out) as a base to hide their actions. They were a jealous lot, ambitious and anxious to take over the government and make those responsible pay, even children of the youth groups Ellis had created. They weren't exactly made in Ellis' mold, but they were close enough and much too dangerous.

As they talked, Logan made the agreed hand signals at Scott to record their words, mostly about the current administration and who's fault things were. The latter wrote everything down on a notepad he kept in his pocket. Once they both knew they had enough information without making their position known, they nodded cordially at each other and split up. Scott continued his inane dusting tasks and Logan found another room to hide out in, right next door.

 _Simona, wish I was sober,  
So I could see clearly now.  
The rain has gone…_

 _Simona, I guess it's over.  
My memory plays our tune,  
The same old song…_

 _I would call you up  
Every Saturday night  
And we'd both stay out  
Until the morning light.  
And we'd sing, "Here We Go Again"._

 _And though time goes by,  
I will always be  
In a club with you in 1973,  
Singing, "Here We Go Again"._

Unbothered by the woman who entered and was paying attention to him (Jean), Logan lit up a cigar and sat still. She attempted to draw his attention towards the other side of the wall with her pretty ways that aroused his interest, but he was not having any part in it this time. He allowed Jean to do what she needed to do (and that was something he enjoyed, refraining from any comments, more for Scott's sake), played his part by giving her some newly-minted money and shooed her away. When Jean left, he finished his cigar and leaned against the wall again, memorizing what was being said.

"We cannot allow this to go on," one said in protest, banging his fist against his other hand. The woman hummed in agreement, but was immediately ordered to shut up.

"You've only said this a million times before." The second sounded a little more than bored.

"Why can't we act _now_?!" the first whined. "I am sure nobody will notice us."

"I believe that we agreed on discretion and stealth," a third stated coolly, the leader and the one who had been relaying the plans it the first place. He also kept nonchalant, Logan noted, and liked to keep everything simple. "We do not have much time though. We can do away with the obstacles and move on, but our goals have to remain the same."

"What is the point?" Now, the first was exasperated. "We can't sit here and be patient. We need to find them now!"

This was the one point that Logan was missing. Throughout the conversation, nobody had referred to who this group needed, but that the current government was a joke and desperately needed to go. They talked of kidnapping some people and holding them accountable for their actions. They often referred to ignorance of the common man, riches hidden in vaults and swimming in people's blood. They then decide that the children had to be found and that they had to suffer the consequences of their father, Leon Ellis.

With a cold shudder, Logan realized _who_ the assembled was referring to. They wanted Danielle and her children, Michael and Riley.

"She disappeared when the man was assassinated and disappeared," the second mused. "A lot of them had been picked up on that day, if you recall. Strange, I'd say. But no matter. I believe that she had some help and that she's hiding those kids of her."

"She's responsible for letting this destroy us," the first declared. "Without her, we all would not be here and some military would not control the reins!"

"And the dictator would still be in place if he had calculated better," the second added. "Now, we just need to go over the clues and locate them."

 _I would call you up  
Every Saturday night  
And we'd both stay out  
Until the morning light.  
And we sang, "Here We Go Again"._

 _And though time goes by,  
I will always be  
In a club with you in 1973,  
Singing, "Here We Go Again"._

 _And though time goes by,  
I will always be  
In a club with you in 1973…_

Logan had heard enough. He waited for the song to finish and for the applause to drown out his footsteps leading out of the room and eventually the hallway. By the time he reached Jay, he had to drag him away from his station and slam him into a corner where nobody could hear them. Jay cursed and complained about being pulled away, but when he read Logan's immediate thoughts, he gulped. This wasn't Logan being a jackass. This was serious.

"We need to get your sister out of here," Logan said urgently. "They're after her and your nephews."

"Why?" Jay could not see the reason. "She's been dead meat to her husband since she spat out mutant babies. Now, he's just a corpse somewhere in bum fuck nowhere. Nobody should be interested in her."

"Except if they feel her the direct cause of his fall from grace," Logan reminded Jay. "The children would be reminders of it."

"But Magneto is finding them and he's having a hell of a time of it."

"And that means nothing to them. If they find Magneto, they get the boys and they might even get Devon too. Where is the damned kid anyway?"

"Who, Devon?" Jay scratched his head, where the brownish hairline was receded. "Last I saw, he was upstairs in the apartment. He's supposed to be sleeping."

"Send someone up there to watch him," Logan ordered sharply, in a tone Jay had never heard before. "Find your sister. We need to reevaluate and see if we can go on without her."

"Nobody knows who she is, Logan. Even the locals don't recognize her anymore. I've been checking."

"It might save her then. Move!"

Jay listened without further delay. Logan saw him beeline to the stage, waiting like the rest of the crowds to see Danielle (still dubbed Regina Raine) walk off, bowing to their clapping when she showed herself on the pathway made for her on the floor. When Jay took a hold of her arm, whispering frantically in her ear, she nodded like it was nothing and continued to take in the praise. It was the mask of an assassin and a spy that refused to show the world that something was wrong.

Danielle coolly met with Logan, allowing her brother to keep to her side and hold onto her. "Want to tell me the meaning of this?" she demanded. "Roger tells me we need to find the reason why this group has been a thorn in the military's side and you're telling Jay that it's all about –"

"Yes, _her_ ," Logan interrupted urgently. "Whatever the cost, this needs to be dealt with."

"There's always going to be opposition to whatever government is in charge," Danielle protested vigorously. "You cannot stop all of it."

"No, but I can stop you from sticking around." Logan wasn't tolerating a brick wall and he was breaking through it. "It is obviously too dangerous for you. Pack your bags. We're heading out as soon as possible."

Danielle could not argue the fact. Thanking Teller that he managed to make her a one-nighter so far (and she was hoping for another before traveling back to Canada, a prospect she dreaded), she thought that the words rang truthfully. Logan, even though his aloofness and gruff manner, would not lie to her and Jay. It would be easy to find it out for sure, but she declined the notion. She only nodded once more, agreeing to it.

"Sunday morning then?" she asked, hoping to stall and drink in her freedom. "I was thinking one more night anyway, with everyone so excited about the performance. I wasn't planning on leaving so early and I am sure that another day isn't going to reveal anything."

The last time Logan indulged Danielle cost them a lot. It went against his judgment that he take her back to Canada on Sunday. He wanted her ready with Devon within the hour and even that was pushing it. However, the three men he listened to did not have an idea that Regina Raine was really Danielle Mitchell Ellis. He preferred to keep it that way. The less they knew and the farther away they were, the better.

"Be packed in half an hour," Logan decided quickly, something Jay conceded with wholeheartedly. "I'll figure it out later."

And that was final.

* * *

 **Lyrics are from the Jame Blunt song, "1973" from the _All the Lost Souls_ album.**


	55. Breaking Free from the Memories

Danielle managed to get her way, boding over it as the van rolled north back towards her cold exile. Because there was no immediate danger, she was able to pack up early Sunday morning and quietly bid everyone a farewell for now. Only she, Roger, Devon and Logan would be returning to Canada though, while everyone else soldiered on without them. It was to be a quick squash anyway (or so Roger kept claiming), but the threat to her life had been too great for her to stick around.

She imagined the night before. It was amazing, reliving a past before her marriage that she could grasp in her hands, only to have it disappear with the foggy dawn. After all, she had been the darling of the stage each time, the one that everyone wanted to see. Forget the show girls. They had been candy compared to her, a mature adult that promised everything and gave them nothing in return except for a few songs and words. And that was all she was willing to shower them with, all things considered.

Her favorite part of the evening was exploring things she had left behind, one of them being a poem that she and Jay had written together in what was perhaps the first connection she had with him since he came back from the Middle East. Feeling brave (especially with Logan actually paying attention to the stage surroundings), she dedicated it to lost lovers, humming the opening lines before the music started. Then, she allowed the words to wash over her as the first lines came to mind.

 _Love that once hung on the wall  
Used to mean something,  
But now it means nothing.  
The echoes are gone in the hall,  
But I still remember  
The pain of December…_

 _Oh, there isn't one thing  
Left you could say.  
I'm sorry it's too late._

 _I'm breaking free from these memories.  
Gotta let it go, just let it go.  
I've said goodbye, set it all on fire.  
Gotta let it go, just let it go._

And that was when a very drunk Jay decided that he was joining her, something that nobody stopped and seemed mesmerized with. During the refrain that he wrote when Fiona had vanished and one that Danielle sang with gusto, he climbed up on the stage and took over the microphone. Danielle had not expected that, moving over as he belted out the second part of the song.

 _You came back to find that I was gone.  
And that place is empty,  
Like the hole that was left in me,  
Like we were nothing at all…  
It's not that you meant to me,  
Thought we were meant to be._

 _Oh, there isn't one thing  
Left you could say.  
I'm sorry it's too late._

 _I'm breaking free from these memories.  
Gotta let it go, just let it go.  
I've said goodbye, set it all on fire.  
Gotta let it go, just let it go…_

The song went on from there. By the time Jay came onboard was when Logan started to really take notice of the pair. He turned around, his stool askew as he stared at them with empty eyes. Danielle could not read them, but she was sure that he was heeding the words, especially when they mentioned finding them gone and having that hole in themselves. Hers met his though, lost in them for the few minutes they had together, when it was almost like the two of them were only there and not a large crowd.

Jay had to nudge her awake when there was a break before the third verse. _Get out of your head, little sister._

Pretending to get on with the performance, Danielle only smiled. _I am. You need to get out of my rented gutter and clean out your own._

 _I haven't been peeking into yours._ Jay was smug about it.

 _Liar. You'd take another chance if you could._

 _I think I'm not the one being delusional today._

 _Me? Delusional? You're kidding me, right?_

 _Just like love, we're all blinded by something. Stay focused, Danielle. We can't let you run wild._

Danielle ignored her brother. Afterward, they alternated between the lines of the last stanza and finished the song. There was no denying that this was enjoyed, especially since one of the owner's bouncers decided to jump in and pretend that he was part of the show, but they easily declined any encore. Danielle had promised Logan to be ready before the night was out. There was no time for any extra songs.

And that was how she left it. Regina Raine had ruled briefly as queen in the weekend she had been able to exert her force. Danielle Mitchell Ellis now had to wash away the makeup and hair dye and head back to what was now her home. As the grey skies lightened up and the windows were tinted with the cloudy illumination, she scratched her head. The dye had dried her red head despite multiple hair washes, leaving her skin peeling underneath. Flacks tumbled into her fingernails and into her clothes.

Sighing, she stared out the window, brushing aside the snowy pile on her pants. Already, they had reached the Canadian border via New York. Roger had kept himself busy throughout the morning driving, cursing all the way as he muttered about women who wanted their husbands and being away for long periods of time. Danielle could hardly blame Mae for wanting Roger back with her, but that was his line of work. Mae knew the risks Roger took daily. She could assume that Mae was used to it and even she missed him after so many months apart and with no way to know if one day was their last together.

Even so, thoughts of their romance were chased away. Danielle focused more on herself and Logan. Sure, she could admit all day that she still loved him dearly. However, he hardly returned them. That alone was enough to have feelings of rejection, even if she could hardly feel them creeping up on her. No, it was still the same determination that she felt when she was younger and had to prove that this was no childish crush. It had taken a lot of work, but she managed it and told herself that this was a relationship she could grow with. Now, it was time to do the same once more and to tread carefully.

Logan's mind was complex and conflicting. He was still recovering from the blows he endured since the previous year, a lot of it having to do with the assassination and his wandering. More had happened then than in the five that they had been separated and that was disconcerting. However, it would be time before he resembled the person he used to be. Xavier reassured her of that and to have patience, even if Logan did not have it.

Now was still not the time for pity and self-reflection. There was a long road ahead for all of them and Danielle was eager to continue on and not leave herself in a limbo. There would be more chances to prove herself. She only had to wait her turn, as Xavier cautioned her to her, and to be ready. She just did not want to remain lonely and die pining away for the one person she loved.

~00~

It was early Monday morning. The weekend crash had been a success, although capturing what the military now called terrorists was difficult even as they sat under their noses. Jean thought of this, slumped against the far wall of the bar and rubbing her tired eyes. Yes, she had been up all night, waitressing and checking in on her children. More so, she had been attempting to keep in step with their targets and hardly had energy to do much else. She hardly had time with Scott, although Teller promised her that she could have tonight and tomorrow night off along with him. They had earned it most certainly, especially since they had taken the initial step and gained some ground.

Jay sat down next to Jean and handed over a cup of black coffee. Jean took it gratefully, suspiciously sniffing it. Ever since she had been imprisoned, she had been testing everything supposedly edible that was given to her, although she knew Jay meant well and would not poison her. He didn't take offense thankfully and clicked his mug against hers, sipping and making noises that made Jean believe that he was in the sweetest heaven. She finally drank, ignoring the bitterness behind it and wishing for some milk and sugar.

As if to answer her question, Jay said, "Only thing Teller could come up with. I actually missed gut rot."

"Gut rot?" Jean was amused, taking another sip. It took all of her willpower and then some not to spit it out this time. This taste was too tart for her.

"What we called strong coffee in the Army…enough to kick your ass into gear and melt the spoon as you stirred," Jay explained. " _This_ swill would classify as such."

"Ahh." Jean nodded in understanding.

Jay took a minute of silence before speaking again. There was something he needed out in the open as doubts buried him alive. "Do you…well, do you think we're making a difference, Jean? Like now?"

"What do you mean?" Jean was confused.

"Well, we do all of these things and nothing ever remains as peaceful as we want it to be. The world will always need the X-Men and then believe us useless when it's convenient."

"According to Mystique all that time ago, I would say we're needed."

"Have you seen her?"

"Not recently. She was part of the first wave that left Canada, I heard. She met with the Professor and Hank briefly and departed. Nobody has seen her since."

Jay sighed. "I just wonder when all of this will end."

"I would assume it takes time and patience." Even Jean could not be certain of that herself, remembering years of disappointment and despair. However, she had to do something to keep their spirits up. "It was only the beginning twenty-four years ago. We didn't know it would go that far and go so fast out of control."

"And he was just an excuse for us mutants to be the scapegoats. I get it."

"But it also almost meant the end of all of us. Apocalypse could have been the beginning, but he was also the example of how we could end it. Don't be bitter, Jay. We could still languish in our jail cells or be dead."

"You're right, Jean. I'm only happy to have my wife back and we're rebuilding a house I am hoping my sister can come home to. Unfortunately, unless these threats cease, she won't be here anytime soon."

"It might when people forget about her," Jean reminded Jay. "She's the widow of a ruthless and cunning dictator. Victim or not, she'll be classified as a villain who allowed it to conspire."

"She was captured like the rest of us," Jay protested.

"And nobody will view it that way." Jean did not like talking about Danielle like that, but it was the truth. Nobody will see her as innocent, even in the future, and she frowned to think of it. "You need to concentrate on you and Fiona, Jay. You have an opportunity that most people would not have, a second chance. It is lucky that she had been spared and had not been killed. Logan and Roger managed to rescue her in time, before they had put her through the worst rigors of one of those camps."

Jay frowned too. Ever since they started sharing their life as husband and wife once more, things had been difficult, especially with their son still missing and with no news about him. It remained a sore spot between them. She was not there when he came home from overseas and had to deal with not only the remaining PTSD that came with it, but also his experiences as a prisoner of Ellis. On her end, she had to relive her car accident and the time spent away from her family, stuck between isolation and then hard labor. Fiona had not just been mentally weakened by this, but also physically, and claimed Logan to be the greatest help of all.

This baffled Jay. Logan had been a nuisance when it came to Danielle, but for him to be there for his wife was startling to hear. When he pressed Fiona about the details, she only stated that Logan had been persistent and pushed her to do more. After all, Fiona had been a limp, lifeless doll when she had been brought back to Salem Center initially. She spent most of the time afterward in bed, not walking, eating or speaking. Logan alone had been urging her to live, to talk to him and to eat some food.

She had grown fonder of Logan. After all, she had been a sucker for lost causes and Logan had been one of them, even if he hid his problems and his past very well, and showing that he cared touched her. On the other hand, it broke her heart that he lost everything, his memories included, and turned into a cold-blooded murderer, running hand-in-hand with Chameleon if the opportunity was given. Fiona always hoped that he would get back together with Danielle, but that was a fool's errand to help them tie the knot and to make it a dream come true. Even Jay knew this.

"I can only say that I am glad that Danielle did not endure that," Jay finally said. "I would never wish it on anyone, not even my brother-in-law."

Jean noted that Jay did not mention Ellis by name. There was no hostility either, which surprised her since Jay had been so keen on revenge on other issues. She even knew his story very well, almost by heart. Jay and Danielle had been wounded and captured by Ellis and his cabinet in 1997, along with several children (who might be dead) and a handful of others, leaving Logan, Hank and Xavier behind under house arrest. They had been separated to prevent them from using their powers and had been under several trials during their incarceration. Jean followed Danielle's end more closely than others, but Jay…he was a different animal she could never fathom.

The thought of Logan made Jean blush, filling her with a warm, tender feeling for the man with many troubles. It shouldn't have. After all, they had been friends more than anything else and love was reserved for Danielle. She recalled meeting him so long ago, when she was a young teenager and on her first mission. They had stumbled upon Stryker's experiments and Logan was one of them. He might not recall that, but she did, piecing together the life he had meandered through aimlessly.

In the end, Jean hid her primal head rush and nodded. "I understand."

Silence remained between the two, only interrupted ten minutes later (and disgusted glances from Jean concerning her coffee) by Scott. He had been watching the door in case stragglers came by looking for an extra hour of fun and had crept up on the pair more to see what they were talking about, making a kid of sixteen (or maybe seventeen) wait outside. Scott trusted Jean and would not have married her if he did not. He just did not like Jay cozying himself closer to his girl.

Honestly, he was a little disappointed to hear that they had been talking of past things and what the future would bring. He wanted a reason to get into a fight with Jay, even if it meant that he was wrong, and prove that he was still incapable of fulfilling the demands of the job, but right now, the kid at the door would get Jay running. He had proof this would make Jay and Fiona happy.

Scott cleared his throat before Jay. "Got someone at the door asking for you," he announced nicely, although he itched to instigate in something.

"I'm not interested." Jay was final on his decision.

Scott immediately handed over some paperwork to Jay that the teenager gave him and grinned. "I think this will change your mind."

Quickly, Jay scanned the documents with a tired eyes and sighed. However, they widened when they reached a certain point. Muttering his apologies for leaving, he got up and rushed away, walloping in joy. Scott then took his place and even moved the abandoned coffee cup, curling against Jean and putting his head on her shoulder, resting.

"What was that about?" Jean asked lightly, sensing the undercurrent of hostility from Scott. He also sensed some happiness in seeing her, so she took that instead of his negativity.

"Oh, someone inquiring about Jay." Scott shrugged his shoulder in indifference. "Some kid claiming to be Jackson Mitchell and that he was looking for his parents."

* * *

 **Lyrics are from Avril Lavigne's "Let Me Go".**


	56. In the Moment

_May 17, 2008_

 _My dearest sister Danielle,_

 _My hand trembles to tell you of the greatest news I've had since being liberated from the experiences I've endured for these many years. I can hardly hold my hand still to tell you and computers do not do this justice, as I've come to find out…and probably you have as well. Fiona and I are glad to bring news that Jax has come home to us._

 _I didn't want to trust it, but I can recognize my son, even if I had not seen him since he was a baby and was taken away from us. To be honest, nothing much has changed except for height and facial features. However, his story was atypical of people like us. He had been in foster homes for a couple of years before Ellis took over and that system fell apart. By then, he escaped his co-called parents and was running the streets and trying to keep from being underfoot. He told me that he did things that he was not proud of, but he had to survive somehow. Amazing how he educated himself, hid from the authorities and even narrowly escaped being captured by the police force._

 _Jax's story went on from there and I don't want to make it long by telling you everything. However, I can say that he used everything in his power to get his birth certificate and used clues to track us down. And thanks to Scott's persistence the day after you left (if you can believe that), I was able to bring my son home to his mother. We can be a family again._

 _Fiona had been trying her best to stop herself from sticking close to Jax and checking in on him often. However, I don't think she can help it. Everyday, I wake up to find them in the living room, talking or watching TV or doing some activity that gets them closer together. Jax does not seem to mind. He seems to have missed having some parental protection and perhaps did not have enough love as a child. We are hoping to make up for the lost time and show him that we have always missed him and loved him._

 _There is so much more I can tell you, little sister, but Fiona does not want me to write much else. She wants to wait until you get here and we can talk to you. Right now, she is begging me to stop scribbling and to get back to the kitchen. Apparently, I cook better than she can and she wants dinner at a specific time, especially with Jax home and working with the new schedule she has set up for us._

 _Wives…gotta love them. Sisters are included, haha._

 _Missing you as well, Danielle. Write to me. I long for your wit and sarcasm._

 _Jay_

Danielle reread the letter a few times as she sat in the scorching late springtime sunshine outside, blinking her eyes a few times to ensure that she was seeing the words correctly. Her nephew Jax had been found? And he had hunted Jay and Fiona down and found them? What great news! She could hardly contain her excitement.

Still holding the letter in her hands, she rushed inside, immediately passing Mae (yelling about people slowing down) and heading straight to Xavier's office. She knocked on the door urgently and almost entered without permission. When Hank called out for her to come inside, she crossed the threshold, grinning from ear to ear as she gave the missive to Xavier without a word. Hank read over his shoulder too, sharing the same feelings Danielle had. Xavier was stoic, folding the paper back into its original corners and gently handing it back to her.

"Some good has come from the end of this war," Xavier said softly. "I did not think it would be like this though."

"The long road came to an end," Danielle replied contently. "I agree. I didn't think Jax would come home."

"And it would appear that they are getting along and healing," Hank observed. "This is a true happy ending. Fiona must be pleased."

"And their son was so resourceful that he found them." Xavier was clearly thinking about something the way his eyebrow arched upward, his mind probing deeper into the message. "Jax's story is extraordinary. A child who survived the odds and discovered his parent is no easy feat."

"I'm sure we'll get more information when Jay, Fiona and Jax decide to share," Danielle said on a positive note. She did not think this had any deeper meaning and wondering why the pair were so concerned. "My brother didn't want to write much, even stating that he wanted to wait until we were face-to-face. He wants to spend more time with his family, I'm sure."

"I am certain your father would love to hear about it," Xavier offered. It was something he was waiting to mention (Chameleon had snuck in the night before and kept invisible) and right now was the perfect opportunity to pounce on Danielle. Reconciliation can come later, but facing her father was something she needed especially with the good news.

"My… _father_?!" Danielle gulped audibly.

"Yes. Chameleon has been anxious since his arrival the previous evening. He had not heard updates since he exited from our company months before and is eager to learn more."

"I did not know my father decided to return."

"On business," Hank interjected, noticing that Danielle was nervous and angry at the same time. It was visible on her face. "He won't be here long, in and out."

"I am sure." Danielle's voice was low and cold, now the opposite of how she felt only seconds ago. She pocketed Jay's letter and frowned. "Where is he? I would like to get this out of the way before I compose a response to my brother."

"In the cellar with Logan, I presume," Xavier answered, knowing that his assumption was the truth. He just did not want Danielle knowing and hoped that she was not reading him (doubtful though, considering the circumstances). "He might be recruiting him on another assignment the Canadian government has for them. I hear there are many these days."

Danielle's heart sank. She somehow did not want that to happen, especially in light of recent events. Instead, she longed for Logan to tell her that everything would be ok and that they would somehow repair a relationship that started on a crest of a wave and suddenly crashed onto land with no way of recovering its speed. A friendship would have even made Danielle happy too, if only she could talk with him. Now, she had nothing and she still would when he raced off for another mission. Chameleon in the picture would only make things worse.

Smiling as if the news did not bother her, she left the office and made the sharp right-handed turn to the basement door. She opened it gingerly, closing it the same manner behind her as she stepped down the heavy stairs to the lower level slowly. On the way, she made herself invisible. She didn't want to come upon the pair unawares, but she did want to see what her father was up to before she chose to make herself discernible.

Below, Chameleon and Logan had been in a disagreement anyway and were too involved to pay attention to her. They talked in hushed voices about the enormous job the Canadian government wanted them to execute to keep them busy. They especially wanted Logan on the radar and to keep an eye out on him.

Mostly, it was nonsense and a notion that even Danielle would not have adhered to. It had to do with his brother and that was something Logan did not like. He did not feel that he should be putting a family relation on a lease and one that he didn't want to make contact with again either. Chameleon thought the opposite and tried to make him see it his way, to no avail.

"What can I say to change your mind?" Chameleon was aggravated, pulling on his thinning reddish-white hair. "You cannot just _leave_ like that."

"I didn't tag along after my last war for a reason," Logan replied gruffly. "Whether or not you can understand it is your problem."

"And the government's," Chameleon reminded him. "Remember, you're the one who got into trouble for picking a fight."

"Victor was stealing food…killing people…I couldn't let him continue. Innocent people had been hurt."

"And I bet he was trying to sneak off with your cigars too."

Logan said nothing, which made Chameleon laugh. Danielle did not bother finding out if that was the truth or not, not feeling compelled to read anyone. Knowing Logan though, it might have been a certainty and he did not want to admit anything as childish as a sibling argument over trifles. However, anyone who dared to disturb his smoking had been threatened and that was if they were lucky. Danielle had seen Logan almost skewered a classmate of hers for pestering him.

"I prefer sticking around here," Logan clarified clearly.

"You mean, you don't want to face it." Chameleon was not pleased. "You're going to have to face your past sooner or later, Logan. You cannot keep running away and hiding from it. This damned hellhole will only hold you for so long."

Logan growled loudly. Chameleon took it as a threat, his eyes changing from his usual dark hazel shade color to a red one and his hands reaching for a weapon in his pocket. Danielle recognized that look, one she had seen so long ago and in what was a lifetime away in a faraway place, when she was small and innocent.

As a little girl, she was always devoted to the man who would play with her and always name her his princess. When the guiltless girl inside of her had been nearly beaten to death, there had been no second chances or apologies. There were only a pair of soft and sorrowful red eyes that had seen so much destruction and war that he could no longer turn back the clock or chose a different pathway.

"No!" Danielle reappeared and rushed down the stairs, dropping Jay's letter and throwing herself between Chameleon and Logan. She felt the cold metals tips behind her brushing her back, which did not worry her. However, Chameleon's large hand swiftly wrapped itself around her neck and lifted her.

"You dare come between a man and his honor?" Chameleon asked Danielle, but in such a way she had never heard before, not even when she was a toddler. He sounded like he had two voices, his own and another's. "You dare come between an argument you have no business in?"

"Let me go!" Danielle gasped, struggling to break free. Her physical strength was no match against her father's and she knew it. "I'm your daughter, dammit. Let…me…go!"

Logan wasn't going to allow it to go on any further than it should have. True, the fight was between him and Chameleon and Danielle should not have jumped in the middle of it, but that could not be helped. He retracted his claws and swept one foot underneath Chameleon, knocking him over. It freed Danielle and surprised Chameleon, separating the two as they rolled in opposite directions. Logan then threw himself on top of Chameleon, holding him hostage while she recovered.

When Danielle realized what had happened, blinking away the black spots that appeared before her eyes, she sprang up into action, standing in a defensive posture and waiting her chance. It was obvious to her now that her father was under the unfortunate influence of his PTSD thought that he was back in Vietnam. Anyone was an enemy at that point and anything that promoted his wellbeing was considered dangerous.

Luckily, she did not have to charge in again. Logan had Chameleon under control before long. Pinning the veteran down against the tiled floor, he put his full weight on top of him and handcuffed his wrists with his hands. Panting, the two glared at each other with contempt before a moment came when she would have a part in his recovery. It was Logan who motioned Danielle forward, a gesture that was both urgent and impatient at the same time.

Words failed Logan, even though he knew that Danielle would understand what to do. He did not want to instruct her. When she kneeled before her father, her hands instantly touched Chameleon's forehead in a gentle fashion (something that made Chameleon struggle even more), rubbing them even if she was afraid. When she closed her eyes and concentrated, her fingers posed in a parental way on the top of his head, Logan saw that his part was completed and hopefully, Chameleon would snap out of it.

In a way, he did not want to. When Danielle entered Chameleon's mind, all she saw was chaos, madness and regret. She passed through childhood years that included a warm family, comfortable days…and an older brother that would protect him at any cost and shared powers with him. When tragedy struck and that brother had been killed by a drunk driver, Chameleon had never been the same. Empty and full of mischief, he slipped under the radar of the law enforcement agencies, landed in jail a few times and lost track of his family. By the time he entered the Army and had married, he was a cold, calculating man who only cared about serving his country and protecting his family.

Danielle knew the rest of the story, watching it from her father's eyes now. As his life passed in indifference, he learned that he had to control the events that shaped him in Vietnam and afterward had to adjust to a civilian life that did not suit him. When the opportunity arose to assist a budding lawyer, Leon Ellis, Chameleon found his calling and doomed the country forever afterward.

There was more than just those feeling inside the man who could not find reconciliation. It was bitterness for when things were going so well, but were shortly out of control and burnt to the ground. Everything he touched turned to death. He was a Grim Reaper that transformed millions into souls and one man soulless. He was also responsible for seeing his own family destroyed and shattered, for his own wife killing herself and on national TV too. It was _all_ his fault.

Once Danielle swam through and managed to find the source of his trigger, she pulled it and drifted away, chilled to be physically back in the basement. When she looked over, she saw that Chameleon had stopped struggling and was asleep. Logan got up and picked the veteran up, depositing him on the couch. He came back to Danielle and gave her a hand to help her up. She accepted the generous offer, taking the warm hand and feeling herself being pulled up. When her knees shook and she almost collapsed, Logan darted forward and held her, her head to his heart and his arms around her, just as it used to be.

They both could not speak of the faux pas, content to be in each other's company. They did not know how to deal with the moment, both of them unsure of how the other felt and why. Logan most certainly did not want to fall, feeling his resolve slipping away and without effort. Danielle did not want to make the wrong move and ruin everything she had hoped for. Dreams came and went, but this one was never going to die…for either of them.

"I should probably get back upstairs," Danielle said, although she was loathe to.

"You should," Logan suggested gently, trying to release her when his mind screamed not to. When he withdrew his arms, she wobbled, but stayed steady on her feet.

"Maybe we need to –"

"I think we should leave it here and part."

"Logan, my father –"

"He's fine now. I can handle him."

"I've got word from Jay though. I wanted – well, not really, but the Professor urged that I tell him that my nephew has been found."

"To your brother and sister-in-law?"

"Yes. Jax is in Salem Center now."

"That is great news. Would you like me to tell your father when he wakes up?"

Danielle was touched by the offer and she beamed to show her appreciation. "Please. I would be grateful."

Logan nodded, shooing her away. She picked up the forlorn paper on the floor, rereading the lines quickly before turning back to smile at him. When he returned it, Danielle felt a weight lifted off of her shoulders, almost like the burden of never seeing closure was taken away from her. There was a way out. She and Logan would have found it, if they were not on track already.

"Go away, kid. You're bothering me." Logan transformed back into his crotchety self, eying Danielle with some annoyance. "Get out of here."

This time, Danielle obeyed. She had to laugh though. It had been almost fifteen years since Logan had called her a kid. This indeed was a good step forward. She only had to wonder what the next would be for them both.


	57. Tell Me!

_I, I stand on my own,  
And wonder if you've ever been alone,  
With all the world around you.  
Say the word, I'd be there,  
And like a fool I'd go anywhere,  
Just like the day I found you._

 _Tell me what you see,  
Tell me you believe in my love.  
Tell me what you need,  
Tell me you believe in my love._

It was a long night after that incident with Chameleon. Even taking care of his needs (most of them involving fetching a little food, Wild Turkey and a pack of Camel 99s) left Logan exhausted, more emotionally than physically. When he settled onto the other couch, allowing himself to heal from the extensive work, he laid back. He closed his eyes, wishing that sleep would come. Doing a foolish activity like that would drive him insane though. Dreams were not real and they would have taken him away from the reality only for a short while.

In many way, Logan had to concede that Chameleon was right. He had to face his past sometime. He did not want to. In all of his wanderings, he had to run away from it and forget that he had been the killer…the soldier…the experiment…the lover…the protector…the friend…the younger brother. He was everything rolled into one being that did not want to feel anymore. He no longer was the loner he used to be and one that had put his heart on his sleeve. And for what reason? For a woman that he still cared for.

He had to admit it. He still loved Danielle with all of his heart. He just did not want to get hurt…her too. She had suffered enough over the years in the hands of her husband. She had been pushed around by Roger (amongst other people) to get back on her feet and to deal with whatever cards had been handed to her. It had been a lucky break that Logan and Chameleon went on that trip to Texas and threw out the last hand they had available. Now, it was up to the winners – all of them – to split the prize and gamble again.

And it would be a huge chance to try love again. Logan always felt himself weaken his resolve when he remembered the girl that Danielle used to be and what she is now. She used to be a pest all right, tagging along, talking fast and even being the temptress. As she grew, she had to work hard to prove so many things, a lot of them evolving around her proving that she was one of them and that she was stronger than everyone else. It was not a competition per se, but evidence enough that she would rose from the ashes of death and live again, even if now she was a mess.

Logan had observed her through newer eyes and ones that failed to keep its distance. She tried so hard to keep everything together and was falling apart at the seams. She enjoyed being in Salem Center and away from the exile. Back in it, she was like a flower without sunshine and water, drooping and merely existing without truly living. Her only bright spot had been Devon and even then, Logan did not think that wise. She was pouring all of her maternal love on one child. Once Michael and Riley came home to Danielle, Devon might be left out in the cold, hurting both of them.

So much had gotten into a woman with nearly twenty-eight years on this planet, almost as much as Logan himself, except her time had been spent in small glimpses of happiness or long years of horror. A new chapter needed to written though…for them both. It was perhaps time now to take up the mantle and dive back into the chance they now received for what might be the final time.

Opening his eyes to the darkness, Logan checked his surroundings before deciding that he could sneak upstairs, maybe for a quick word with Danielle, nothing more. Chameleon was still sleeping, as was Hank, Roger and Mae. Xavier was rustling over his head in the office, still writing something. Nobody knew what that was yet (so preoccupied he was with it) and it seemed a grace that the Professor kept it that way.

Logan checked on Chameleon quickly. He deemed it safe to leave the veteran alone for a little while. Not too long though, he figured, as he crept upstairs. The nightmares the man woke up from were terrifying and even Logan was cringing, remembering his own in faraway places and years that are now in history textbooks. Enough had been said about governments who threw their pawns on the chessboard and expected them to obey. Never enough had been said about the survivors and those who tried to understand a world they left behind before war. Chameleon had been one of the latter.

The first floor was illuminated by a few lights. The living room lamp was turned on, as was Xavier's in the nearby room. The last had been the last bedroom nearest to the kitchen, one that Danielle shared with Devon. Congratulating himself on his luck, Logan made his way there and knocked on the door lightly. When Danielle answered it, her face only showing lines of worry, Logan was tongue-tied. He didn't know what to say.

"Yes?" She was at least curious and a bit surprised why Logan was about. After all, it was close to two in the morning.

"Can I come in?" Logan asked quietly, seeing Devon sound asleep on the small bed. Danielle's shoulder only hid so much.

Danielle nodded, allowing Logan in. The door opened some more, permitting some space for entry. When he was inside, she shut it behind them without another word. She did not even face Logan, instead sitting on her bed. It was an invitation if he ever saw one, but it was nothing inappropriate. It was more of a comforting gesture because she needed it.

 _I don't understand what to say.  
You take my breath and then you walk away.  
Your life goes on without me.  
And you can look right at me,  
But in your eyes it's a mystery.  
What do you feel about me?_

 _Tell me if it's real,  
Tell me what you feel in my love.  
Tell me what you see,  
Tell me you believe in my love.  
Tell me what to give,  
Tell me I can live for your love.  
Tell me not to leave,  
Tell me to believe in your love._

Logan complied with the request, remaining as silent as Danielle. Again, he felt the atmosphere charged with their mutual feeling of not wanting to make the first move and ruin everything they had or to make it more awkward than it was merited. Cursing to himself, he took her hand and squeezed it, reassuring her that everything was well and so were they. She did not return his gaze, staring at the wall to the right. She then glanced at Devon, sleeping in sweet, ignorant bliss.

Logan had to start somewhere before he sank into the relaxing sleeping space. "What do I mean to you?" he inquired of her, unsure of her answer or why he even bothered to ask.

Quickly, Danielle's head swung to the left at Logan, her hazel eyes very sad as they transformed into a blood red color, so similar to Chameleon's that Logan almost let go of her hand. She was startled more by the question than anything else. It was unlike Logan to probe into something deep as that, especially since he had been blowing hot and cold ever since her husband's assassination almost a year ago. How was she to answer him?

She took a deep breath instead, forming a reply that would be truthful and satisfy them both. "Everyone in my life means something to me," she said. "I don't think I've ever truly hated a person before."

"Even Scott? Your husband?" Logan was serious, but he had to stop himself from snickering.

"Scott is someone I tolerate. I don't think I've ever hated him. Even so, I would not because he loves Jean and brings her happiness. No matter how many snide comments I receive from him, I cannot think of harming him immensely. And Leon…well, I can abhor the things he's done to so many people. It would be wrong to add that feeling to the pile of bigotry and ignorance he used to get power."

"And me?"

"You mean _us_. There will always be a place in my heart for us, Logan, no matter how much time and distance has passed us. I can wish like a teenager and not get my way, but I will always love you and never want you to be unhappy. What about you?"

"Don't you think that this is enough to show you?"

"Show me… _what_ exactly? That you're stepping into my life? That I have yet to do the same to you?"

"You were?"

Danielle grinned. "You always told me to prove it to you. I guess my little schemes always took a sideways turn."

Again, Logan was wordless. He checked on Devon one more time, to see if he was awake, and found that he was oblivious. He then met Danielle's red eyes, stroking her cheek gingerly with his other hand multiple times. This had calmed her more, causing them to change back to normal. Soon, they drew closer together. Like the time near the stream almost just over ten years before, their lips met. At first, it was a soft touch, but soon the two had their arms wrapped around each other, exploring what they had been denied to them for so long.

 _I don't really know what to say.  
I don't know how, but I can learn to pray,  
If praying makes you hear me…  
I could stay on my own  
And wonder if I'd have ever known.  
I just want you near me._

 _Tell me if it's real,  
Tell me what you feel in my love.  
Tell me what you need,  
Tell me you believe in my love.  
Tell me what to give,  
Tell me how to live for your love.  
Tell me what to see,  
Tell me to believe in your love,  
In your love…_

Before they both knew it, Logan was carrying Danielle, turning off the light and closing her bedroom door behind them. They exited the first floor and reached the main living area in the cool underground in no time, finding a spot on the other side where Chameleon (or anyone else) would not find them. There wasn't anywhere soft they would lie, but that did not matter to either of them. All that they cared about was each other.

By dawn, the two had spent their rambunctious and highly sexual energy and were asleep fully clothed. Danielle's last thoughts had been about her children and how Devon was going to feel in a few hours, finding her gone. All and all, she could have cared less, but it hurt her to think that she was selfish enough to take happiness when the hole in her heart was still there for her missing sons. She hoped that she could at least have this for a while longer and eventually complete her family, even if doubts were eating her alive.

For now, she could relax and drink in the moment. Dreams of better times can come later. She only had to allow herself to drift into the surreal…

~00~

Later that afternoon, even tired, Danielle bounced around the house with purpose, even when she was resting. She cleaned with Mae, played a board game with Devon and was even reading books again. She had a lively step, Hank and Xavier noticed, and it perhaps had to do with her rendezvous with Logan some hours ago. Xavier had heard his footsteps come up and down the stairs and she had been missing from her bedroom around eight, when Devon woke up. Indeed, Danielle and Logan had been as innocent as they could be, with him drinking his beer and smoking outside and her doing the laundry at the appointed hour of discovery.

Hank had been more concerned than Xavier was, but nonetheless needed an excuse to get away from the changes in the household. He declared publically in front of Mae and Roger that he needed to talk about a letter he received from Salem Center, which was true to an extent. Scott and Jean had written about the elimination of the terrorists Roger had wanted gone and that they had been next looking to the mansion for reconstruction. It was hopeful, to say the least, and it raised Hank's spirits immensely.

He and Xavier met in the latter's office after lunch. When Xavier settled behind his desk, Hank handed him the letter from Scott and Jean and allowed him a chance to read it. Craving privacy (and wishing that Roger would quit lingering nearby), Hank also shut the door in the master spy's face and arched an eyebrow when Xavier gave him a quizzical glance.

"I don't see anything that merits my attention," Xavier started. "I quite agree with what Jean and Scott are proposing. Once we are cleared to go back to New York, we must begin the school again. They only want to clean up and live there."

Hank nodded. "I apologize, Charles, but that was the cover story. I don't think we need to go further with that topic. I am more worried about Danielle and Logan."

"What about them?"

"I think I liked it better when they were apart."

Xavier laughed out loud, something Hank hardly heard. "Hank, I do not believe we need to worry. Political and social climates will change and so will they. Let them have their relationship. I hardly disapproved of it ten years ago, although I did not like Danielle harping on Logan throughout her school years."

"I am only worried."

"I would be too if I knew it would head down a disastrous pathway. This isn't Vinnie Paul though, Hank. It's only Logan."

"Who has not recovered from his… _experiences_ …for lack of a better word."

"Neither has Danielle. However, the two are healing each other."

When there was a knock on the door, the two started and stared at it. Without an answer, Mae entered. She shut it behind her, hands on her hips, and stared at Hank and Xavier like something was their fault. Xavier did not blame her. For years, she had been finding someone guilty for not watching out for one child or another. He could state the same for Mae, but chose not to blame this time. She was a protective and volatile woman and the last thing they needed was an irrational argument from her.

"Has anyone seen how happy Danielle and Logan are?" Mae interrogated, her tone accusatory.

Hank and Xavier could not help themselves. They exploded in hilarity.

This made Mae's temper worse. "What's so funny?!" she demanded. "Why are you laughing?"

The merriment ended, but lingered a little, even if Xavier was the only one of the two that had managed to stop with only a smirk dancing on his lips. Hank decided to head out, patting Mae on the shoulder bravely. "If only you knew," he said, leaving her with Xavier.

When Hank was gone, Mae focused on Xavier. "What do you have to say for yourself?" she asked in a haughty voice. She wasn't going to tolerate the silliness. She needed answers and she wanted them now!

Would you like to go home soon?" Xavier offered instead. He hoped for peace, but it was hard to achieve. He would just have to ride this wave and follow faith alone that Mae would not be too angry…

* * *

 **Lyrics are from the Boston song "Tell Me" from their greatest hits album.**


	58. Reconstruction Continues

**June 30, 2008**

It was a very hot and humid summer, even for Canada. Temperatures had reached an unbearable point, causing all of the inhabitants of the house to stay indoors, constantly bickering with each other. However, that was not the only reason why they were so irritable. It was the wait for their turn to head back to Salem Center. No word had been sent back from the governments of the US and Canada yet and it seemed like it was stretching on forever the way they left the last eight people in suspense.

Even Roger was getting antsy. He could have passed back and forth between the borders all he wanted, but because Mae wasn't allowed to (being the sister of the former dictator), he chose not to move unless she was. Instead, he had been corresponding with Teller, Matthew, Ororo and sometimes Jean and Scott, asking all of them the atmosphere of the country, any changes and even if rebuilding the mansion was any help. Jean had always talked about the school if it was her anchor, explaining that she and Scott had already begun renovations and they were nearly completed on a professional level.

 _The windows had been the hardest_ , she wrote in her last note. _They're an odd shape and hardly anyone has that specific cut anymore. Scott had to hire someone to measure them out and to custom cut glass. I would not think that they would work with mutants like us, but they did and with little grumbling and muttering under their breath. I am pleased with this progress though and will continue to hope for harmony._

Roger stared out his own window of his study through thick curtains, laying the missive down on his desk. Yes, it had been a huge step to hear that a contractor was working with a bunch of misfits like them and had finished so fast. However, it did not mean the school would be opening this year and to wild acclaim either. Jean had plans of redoing all of the bedrooms if they could afford to and biding her time with the current events and the public mood. Next year would hopefully be the grand reopening and it would be as open as they were in the first place.

In the next room, Roger hear Mae sigh. She had been doing that an awful lot lately. He wondered why she was so exasperated too. He knew that it had to do with Logan and Danielle hooking back together, but there was more. Somehow, he was not surprised by it, but she was and she was not amused by it, lately most of all. She would not tell Roger why and would make excuses each time he queried. That made him suspicious, the last thing Roger needed with his wife.

 _Women…_

Feeling ambitious (even if the cooling system in the house hardly made the heat bearable), Roger got up and went to find Mae. She had been down the hallway, putting some clothes in the closet washer and setting it for an extra rinse cycle. When she finished, she almost jumped in surprise. Calming down immediately, she attempted to smile and motioned to the spare bedroom. Everybody had been cleared out a month ago and sent to their assignments. Nobody was going to see them.

The master spy could not believe his luck. Checking on Gil in the living room and relieved that he was still tinkering with his electronics, he decided that today was their day. He and Mae closeted themselves, enjoying each other in a way that they had not experienced in a while. Finally, after a few hours of playtime, they laid on the bed fully clothed. Right now, Roger was just enjoying Mae's company…and trying to now butter her up so that he got the information he sought.

"You've been downstairs often," Roger observed, wishing that Mae would catch the bait.

"Huh?" Mae was so involved in her lovemaking and concluding quiet time that she did not hear the question immediately. "Oh, yes. Yes. I have been, haven't I?"

"Too much." Roger kissed Mae's forehead. "What's happening?"

"Oh, this and that."

"I see that everyday. What else?"

"People coming and going."

"I see that too. What _else_ , Mae?"

Mae heard the annoyance in Roger's voice and sat up, pushing his arms off of her. "What else do you want, Roger? Things have been insane."

"With six bored people? I wouldn't think any of them ill. I haven't heard anything about contagion."

Rolling her eyes, Mae reached for a pillow and hit Roger in the face with it. "It's not contagious, silly, unless I was younger like Danielle."

"I _knew_ it!"

"Well, Hank has been under the weather and for obvious reasons too. Devon has been using his bad foot and he broke it again."

"How?!"

"Tripping down the porch stairs. He was stupid about it."

"And Danielle?"

"I knew you'd get to her. She doesn't want too many people knowing, but…"

"But _what_ , woman? What's the matter?"

"She's pregnant."

Roger was shocked into silence. His top assassin and spy (whether she realized it or not), fallen victim to the most ordinary cycle a woman has when she has a partner. He thought her to be done with the whole kid thing. She adapted one on the way to Canada the first time and has two sons still missing. Why did the world need another? So that she could torture Logan and keep him on a leash for the next eighteen years or so? So that she could overpopulate the world?

"I see you're not please," Mae pointed out. She felt the same way Roger did, but that did not mean that she wasn't excited about it on the inside. She also imagined Michael and Riley playing with their new sibling, dream as it was now.

"A million things rolled into my head and I can't explain," Roger replied honestly. "My mind keeps telling me to be against it. I use Danielle for work purposes because she's good. On the other hand, I'd love to see Logan have a cow."

"He doesn't really know," Mae said softly.

"Wait, wait, _wait_. Logan doesn't _know_?!"

"Well, he can see that something is wrong. Danielle just figured it all out yesterday when her not-so-secret test results from the hospital came back. She's waiting for a good time to bring it up."

"Who else knows?"

"You and me. Maybe Devon if Danielle mentioned it."

"I would hope for Logan's sake that she would tell him first and not the kid."

Calmed, Mae crawled and curled back into Roger's strong arms. "I do too. I also hope that this would be the beginning of some closure…for them both."

~00~

Danielle had never thrown up so much in her life and for so long too.

Her head below the porcelain bowl in the basement bathroom, she laid on the floor, curled in a fetal position. She hadn't washed herself in weeks, her hair was greasy and she could not get up, not even to tend to Devon. Every movement made her sick and watching people walk made it worse. The best she could do was close her eyes and sleep…only to wake up and throw up some more.

Logan had been worried in his own way, for all of the gruffness that he displayed. To keep her out of the way and to keep Devon from being underfoot (even if Mae was watching him), he carried her to the basement and usually stood nearby, smoking a cigar and drinking a cold beer despite the rules of the house and waiting for any requests from Danielle. The motion itself exploded into another episode that lasted for several minutes (and most of it dry heaving), but at least he did not get covered in stomach acid.

Ginger ale and salt free crackers covered the floor, all of it stale and flat. Danielle reached over to push them away, but the effort was too much for her. She left her arm suspended, dropping it to the cold tiles. She tried calling out for Logan, but she had been unused to using her voice. It took a few minutes to get the name right. Even so, he was kneeling in front of her in seconds. For how long, she could not tell, but it might have been when she started her gurgling.

Sitting up sapped her strength. She started seeing the walls move and felt Logan's hands steady her. That was a relief. A few knocks to the head was enough, considering how many times she tried walking and stumbled in her state. Another would probably make matters worse than they were already.

"We need to talk," Danielle started. Her stomach rolled and the acid pushed itself up, causing her to gag.

Logan waited patiently as she controlled her reflexes. "I've been meaning to say that."

"Now, we have a chance," Danielle noted. She swallowed and stilled her ailing midsection, if only for a few minutes.

"Your tests came back yesterday, right?"

"That's what I've been meaning to say something about."

Logan waited a moment. When Danielle could not speak and needed to throw up again, he moved her head to the toilet. He then held her red hair back, turning his head away to breathe fresh air. His eyes soon rested on Chameleon, who had been kicking around for the past few months and had refused to leave, even though the Canadian government kept calling him. His excuse had been mental rest and he even had medical documentation to prove it (finally). But now, he was powerful with knowledge and that showed in his movements.

The veteran glided himself to the couch and sat down, watching the action with amusement. He smirked too, saluting Logan with the usual military gesture, his smoldering cigarette swirling puffs around the motion. Logan easily threw Chameleon the bird, the only one he knew to get the message across.

Once Danielle had finished, Logan gently laid her down on the floor. She was comfortable that way, closing her eyes for sleep. Once he was sure that she was safe for the time being, he joined Chameleon on the sofa. He popped himself open another bottle and sat back, watching her closely.

"I wouldn't worry about Danielle if I were you," Chameleon said, ashes sprinkled into an ashtray. "This will pass in a month or two."

"How would you know?" Logan was curious and even distrustful, his eyes never leaving Danielle.

"I've had a wife and two children, remember. You learn to stop checking in on things."

"What things?"

Chameleon itched to slap Logan with some reality, but he figured it was more fun to let him come to the same conclusion eventually. He did not need to see paperwork to know that his daughter was pregnant. He only had his memories of Shannon, beautiful as his child bride and lovelier as a mother, and snickered about Logan's luck. He thanked anyone who was up there that he was too old to father more children and that any that came into the family would either be bounced on his knee or told stories from times long ago as they sat before his feet.

He patted Logan on the shoulder and got up instead. "I think you'll understand later."

When Chameleon literally disappeared, Logan did not track him down. He assumed that the veteran decided to sneak outside to do something, regardless of what the doctors told him to do. Shrugging his shoulders, he still monitored Danielle, but through newer eyes. He had to think about what Chameleon had said, the last few weeks and the events. Once the idea came into his head, he had to balk.

 _Oh, no. It can't be…_

Startled Logan ran upstairs to find Mae.

~00~

Jay sat back in the shade of the back parking lot at the bar, reading a letter that his sister sent him and trying to concentrate on something that didn't involve the heat. Danielle wasn't detailed (something that bothered Jay), only complaining about a few things. She mentioned something pretty miraculous towards the end though, something that made Jay stand up in shock. Fiona had been sitting next to him and seemed a little frightened by his sudden movements, shaking as she asked what had happened.

"Read this." Jay shoved the letter at her just as Jean came upon them. She read the words over Fiona's shoulder and grinned.

"How sweet!" Fiona exclaimed cheerfully. "She and Logan are together and are expecting a baby."

Jean slinked away before she was asked her opinion. She had a sound one nonetheless, a voice she did not want the elder Mitchell to hear since he was so angry. Jay did not want her spreading any news and froze her physically as she turned, a despicable thing for him to do. Jean knew that his powers were more dominant than hers and it was humiliating (to say the least) that he would use something against her…and for a trifle too!

Jay stood in front of Jean. "You're not running to Scott or Teller or anyone," he commanded in a military tone. "I'll tell them in my own time."

When Jean was released, she coughed, controlling her anger. "You can't stop me. Your sister is going to do what she feels is right. This isn't her best, but you can't make her separate from love. We proved that it didn't work. Besides, maybe if you connected with her and was in her corner, she would not feel so lonely."

Jay did not know what Jean was talking about. Allowing her to leave, he returned to Fiona. She gave him Danielle's letter back. He scanned it again, unsure of what Jean referred to, and found it. He did not read until the post script. She added that she was quite desolate where she was and wished for more company if the weather allowed it. An indirect invitation that Jay was not going to answer.

"Are you really that mad at her?" Fiona asked. She was concerned that Jay would not talk to Danielle again. Even human, she could sense that.

"We're not talking about this," Jay snapped. "For all I care, she and Logan can rot. They're not coming back to New York anyway."

"What do you mean?" Fiona was startled. She had never seen Jay like this before, taken aback by the redness in his eyes.

"This." Jay pulled out another communiqué and unfolded it, reading the contents out loud. "It's from the US government. 'To whom it may concern...'Yada, yada, yada, tells me that they are working towards amnesty with the Professor, Hank, etc. Oh, here it is. 'We regret to inform you that your request to release the subject from Canadian custody, Mrs. Danielle Regina Ellis, has been denied. A hearing has been scheduled December 1, 2008, in order to determine whether or not the subject has been rehabilitated enough to regain entry into the country of her birth.' Do you believe this? They think of her as a traitor and are still debating if she's dangerous. A prisoner for most of her marriage and accused of being an accomplice to murder, mayhem and atrocity!"

"I am certain they would see the error," Fiona replied sweetly, the only way she felt would calm Jay. She realized now that he was sickened by the absence of his sister and this made matters worse.

"Not now," Jay said gravely. He rubbed his greying temples. "Another child and the father is a thorn in the Canadian government's side? I don't think so. Danielle is going to be spending the rest of her life in that snowy exile of hers. She'll be her own prisoner."

Before Fiona could come up with another simple explanation, Ororo entered through the back door. She did not have Matthew with her, a sure sign that he was busy elsewhere, and the look on her face was unreadable. Jay could not gauge her, she had hidden everything so well, but it was obvious she was coming because of Jean…and she did not know what exactly caused Jay to lose his cool.

"What happened?" Ororo inquired, crossing her arms.

"Later." Jay got up. "Snake Eyes needs help with cleaning."

Ororo took the seat that Jay vacated, her eyes pleading with Fiona to spill everything. When she did not, shaking her head negatively, Ororo felt helpless. Jean had come to her upset because Jay was raging and it was best that she facilitate. Apparently, without more information, she could not. In silence, she waited until Fiona felt that nobody was listening. She leaned forward to hear the Mitchell wife, she was so faint.

"Danielle's loyalty is questioned," Fiona revealed to Ororo. "Jay has been petitioning and wants her home. I think it's worse that Logan and Danielle are a couple."

"No surprise." Ororo wasn't. It was common knowledge that Jay did not like Logan and vice versa. They only tolerated each other for the sake of the one person they loved.

"Well, Danielle also wrote to Jay and told him that she's pregnant."

"What? What did Logan think?"

"She didn't mention that. I think it's enough to scare him away now."

Ororo chuckled. "You and me both. Logan isn't parenting material."

Fiona was worried though. "Then, what's going to happen if he's released from his detention and she isn't?"

"Take off and run for the hills." Ororo was sure of it.

"I hope not. It would devastate Danielle."

"I've…been with her for some of her marriage. I think she can handle it as well as she did with Leon Ellis."

Neither said a word afterward, although the same thoughts ran through their head. So many possibilities came up and none of them were good. All they were certain of is that there might be some time before any reunion would be possible, even if the school reconstruction was going smoothly, and that even if everyone was able to come home to Salem Center, life would never be the same again.


	59. Tribulations

Rogue had never felt so happy in her life like she did right now. Curling into Bobby's reassuring arms on that lazy summer afternoon in the green yard the school offered, she only had to think back on the horrible years she had been captured and brush them away as she laid in perfect harmony. Compared to her situation right now, it was nothing, just as long as she had Bobby all to herself and he still loved her.

Bobby was sleeping, hardly stirring as the sunshine played lazily on his face. Rogue traced a finger around the bright shapes, giggling in glee as they sparkled on her fingers. She was not one for touching anyone and allowed this exception. Her powers did not allow normal interactions and even this would be considered dangerous. The Professor had forbidden her contact with anyone and ordered gloves to be worn when she first had entered into Salem Center and its chaotic atmosphere. However, she chilled to Bobby's mutation and embraced it, backing away when she noticed that he was starting to feel hers.

Luckily, he did not wake up to it. That was all Rogue ever wished, that she never harmed a soul and that she could live like a normal person could and without the people who pestered her the most. In any case, that had to be tested and Kitty coming up to her was the biggest one of all. She did not have Colossus with her, so Rogue was certain that this was going to be interesting, to say the least.

Regardless, Kitty was not a bad person. All and all, she had been a good team player in the short period they had rushed to Canada, only to be captured shortly afterward because of their silly mistakes. However, her pleasantness was sickening and her boasting about certain things was maddening. Worse yet, she had implied that Rogue's powers were useless compared to her and that she could never function as a member of society, mutant or not. A hard blow, Rogue had to admit, and something she could have misinterpreted, but it was her nerves that were taking the hit…and perhaps judging Kitty too harshly.

 _Give her another chance. We only just begun to taste freedom._

"Hey, Rogue," Kitty greeted warmly. Her eyes briefly touched Bobby and averted when Rogue shot what she hoped was a desperate plea to leave them alone. When she didn't move, Rogue concluded that tolerance was the name of this game. "I hope things are going well?"

Rogue grinded her teeth in irritation, smiling away with her Southern charm. "I suppose to. I haven't been out in town that often."

"I wasn't quite referring to that. I was going to ask you a favor though."

"What?"

Kitty shifted uncomfortably on her feet, shuffling them against the grass as her hands hid behind her back. "Well, Colossus wanted to treat me to dinner tonight. He set up something quixotic in his room and even hinted that he wanted a night outside the premises. I want to accept it, but I have a shift tonight at the bar. Teller would not let me off unless I had someone to take my place. So, I was wondering if you'd take tonight."

"I worked six nights in a row already and today is my only day off for a while. Tonight will make it seven."

"You know, I _can_ make it up to you."

"How? I will be working twelve days straight if I take your night."

"Tell me what you want and we'll work out a deal."

This wasn't something Rogue was expecting. Kitty was always taking. She never gave back except to Colossus and that was because he was devoted to her and would do anything in his authority to make her happy. That relationship was none of her business, but Rogue was skeptical about what Kitty truly wanted. This wasn't just about a night out with her sweetheart and had many secrets behind it. Tonight was special in its own way and romance was not it.

"Can't Colossus reschedule?" she asked Kitty. Any man would be reasonable if that was the case.

Kitty sighed in frustration, feeling that Rogue was catching up to her. "You aren't the only one suffering."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Maybe if you'd get your nose out Bobby's ass, you'd see perfectly fine."

"Here's the pot calling the kettle black, sugar. Keep to yourself and leave my man alone."

Kitty bristled, ready to retort and keeping her tongue silent instead. This wasn't how the conversation was supposed to go. She was pretty flexible and a good imagination to boot, imagining Rogue trying her hardest to be nice and accepting the offer, maybe suggesting an even exchange that would benefit them both. She expected her to be haggling about days off and perhaps some chores that Jean and Scott assigned them. However, a jealous Rogue was sniffing up the wrong tree as always and starting something where there was nothing.

Granted, she had to admit that Bobby was hot and that she would jump on him if she had the chance. Rogue never treated him fairly, she felt. From the beginning (and from what Colossus had told her), Rogue had clung onto him, demanding more than his energy, time and love. Kitty wanted to shudder, remembering what Rogue had done to Bobby, but kept her peace. She was not winning arguments by showing her outrage and instead gave herself a pep talk.

 _Breathe in and out, Kitty. You can handle this. Rogue is petty and small and you are not. You haven't come this far in life to get caught up in drama._

"Look, you can say no," Kitty mentioned, changing her tactics. Rogue did not need to know that she thought of it on the spot. "I just prefer tonight being _our_ night. I would not think Colossus so callous as to purposely set a date and forget about my schedule."

This quieted Rogue for a minute, shame and embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "I am sure. However, what do you have that would be an equal exchange?"

"I could take two of those nights," Kitty offered. "You can have tonight and I'll give you a weekend."

"And the chores Jean has?"

"Depends on what you have."

"Window scrubbing on all floors, sweeping the main area daily and making the beds if needed," Rogue recounted. "Oh, and did I mention the bathrooms with the Summers kids?"

Even Kitty had to wince. Even though Rachel and Cable were sweet, kind and caring, they were hyper and constantly underfoot and in everyone's way, playing pranks and arguing with each other. She chalked it up to their being cooped up for so long and not knowing when their last day was. It was a fight to keep the siblings from hurting themselves or somebody else. Kitty wholeheartedly believed that Jean was relieved when they were asleep…if only for a while. She even had to wonder if the parent had to keep watch over the battlefield at night.

"I'll join the kids," Kitty accepted, knowing that this would please Rogue and score some points. "Same two days. Deal?"

Rogue had to think about it. She didn't desire tonight and had expected to spend the night with Bobby. After all, he had something planned too (or had hinted so much to her anyway). Since he had worked almost three weeks straight and without taking days off, he had the week to himself and expected her to be there when she could. It made her believe that she was not the only clingy person the relationship and wanted to shout it out to everyone. Bobby had his own insecurities. He just did not wear them on his sleeve like most men.

If tonight was just a prelude to two days out and no Rachel and Cable, Rogue would grab it. Besides, if Kitty complained (which Rogue was sure she would, at least to Colossus), then it would be her fault, not Rogue's. The pot was too thick with interesting intrigue and gossip not to stir and to use later. And in any case, Rogue was too glad to give Kitty the brats for a couple of days.

"Deal," Rogue finally said. When Kitty offered a handshake to seal their agreement, Rogue shrunk back into Bobby's arms, indicating that they were done. "I think our word is enough," she added. "Just go inform Teller, will you?"

Kitty did not concede, but nodded so that they did not bicker again. She turned to leave, a smile lighting her face. She had won in a way. She and Colossus would be meeting for dinner and discussing many things, one of them being the recent events that conspired over the summer to date. In truth, it was more about reuniting the X-Men and the initial denial of their true involvement. Rumors had spread that some of them would be heading to trial as a courtesy, to satisfy a public that cried for justice. They had no hand in Ellis' schemes obviously, but most of them had paid heavily for meddling in affairs.

All and all, Kitty should not have been worried. Seeing Rogue so smug about getting the better end did nothing to dispel the nervousness. She had not been part of the team for long, but she still was considered a terrorist all the same. She had liberated camps, struck at Ellis' police force when it suited her, evacuated people…they had been so much that she had to take responsibility for. Tonight was a reason for her and Colossus to discuss that future and hope it was all worth it.

Rogue, on the other hand, did not care. Oblivious to Kitty's worries and thinking she was scheming the worst (her insistence on the switch was horrendous), she found Bobby awake. He might have listened to their talk, but she could not tell. He was still quite sleepy and he rubbed his eyes for emphasis. Perfect for manipulation in Rogue's book and more so because he had that look that told her that he was all hers and nothing – not even Kitty's word – would make her out to be a demon harpy.

"What was that about?" Bobby questioned with a yawn. When he settled into a more relaxing position, he revealed a very red face, neck and arms. "Was that Kitty?"

"Yes," Rogue confirmed. "She wanted me to take her shift tonight."

"I thought we had plans…"

"We do. I just need you to do something for me while I'm out."

"Yeah, what?"

"I think Kitty and Colossus have more on their mind than a romantic dinner." Rogue's face darkened, but she kept it bright for Bobby. "Care to check for me?"

Bobby's snores were a reply to Rogue's query. Sighing, she squinted her eyes and watched Kitty saunter away. Yes, she was definitely planning something. What it was, Rogue could not tell, but she always suspected things with that girl. Oh, yes, she was a loner all right…and she would soon be revealed, whether or not it was for or against them.

~00~

Ororo and Jean had silently been cleaning each room's crevices and updating equipment for the living areas and the classrooms since the imperative renovations had been completed. Straightening out the sleeping spaces had been next on their to-do list and one they enlisted all of the help they could grab. One after another, they tackled each, chatting inanely and giggling at the smallest things. For both of the, being childish had been a way to escape the horrors they had survived recently. Being somewhere familiar was also a help and the greatest goal they could achieve was making it safe for all people today.

Finally on the second floor, they commenced on one end, where the staff resided, and felt overwhelmed by the job and very tired from keeping track of children, messes and meals. The task was momentous at this point, especially here. A lot of the bedrooms had not been used in over ten years and had dust and old sweat dancing everywhere. With so much damaged, most of its contents had to be thrown away and eventually to the dumpster outside, a sad loss to those who had been taken and might never return.

Ororo started in one dormitory as Jean consolidated their piles of garbage outside, eying it with curiosity. Too late, she remembered that it was Logan's bedroom and very briefly one that he shared with Danielle. It did not seem that things changed in there since they last were here in 1997. Logan had not touched anything, the deeds of the past encased in a moldy smell that was a sweet exuberance a decade before. Even an old t-shirt of Danielle's on the floor was enshrined in a time long gone, holes eaten into it by moths.

Some minutes later, Jean entered. She saw that Ororo had not moved since entering and put a hand on her friend's shoulder for reassurance. Jean had not been around when this went down since she had gone into hiding with Scott, Alex and Lorna and her family, but she could easily detect that this had been a place of utter joy and destitution for one man. The ghosts had been too mocking here and would continue to. All too clearly, Jean would now imagine Logan's feelings and why he was so cold.

Ororo's eyes met Jean's. "It had only been one night," she said quietly. "And then, everything changed."

"I know." Jean heard footsteps behind them, but ignored it. "If we had done –"

"We could not, Jean. We agitated the monster and here we are."

"It's better than if we did nothing. It might have been that his ambitions stayed in Congress. He could have contributed to a slower decay with no remedy. We could not have had a future."

"Do you call this one, Jean? Picking up the shattered pieces of an old life?"

"Why the hell do you think we're doing this? For the fun of it?" Jean reached over and picked up the odd clothing and tossed it in a pile. "Come on. We've got a whole wing to make ready and a school year to prepare for."

Ororo copied Jean's movements. However, it wasn't long before they both stopped with a sudden crash behind them. They saw Scott trying to catch his breath and leaning on the door frame for support. Jean moved to assist him before he collapsed, but he waved her away, smiling for reassurance. His whole demeanor was panicked though, his emotions running from shock to confusion.

"Trial," Scott said, not knowing what else to say. "We're all going to trial."

"What are you talking about?" Jean was as bewildered as her husband. "What trial? Where? How?"

"And why?" Ororo added.

"Treason and acts of inhumanity," Scott replied. We're all being accused of helping Leon Ellis…and for ensuring his powers extended to the death of millions."

~00~

She was being accused of the highest crimes one could be and was going to be begging for her life.

Two days of being able to walk to and from a deck chair outside should have been cause for celebration, even if it was difficult not to throw up. Instead, the late July days filled Danielle with dread, the hangman's shadow shrouding her. In the mail from Lieutenant Sanders, she was given notice of her pending arrest, detainment and shipment to the United States, which was happening at sunup tomorrow. Also going with her were her companions, most of them either witnesses for each side or being imprisoned with her.

It was easy to blame Logan, so he was riding with her. Mae, guilty by association, was also under arrest. Chameleon was taken up already as a partner in crime. Hank and Xavier were pinned as witnesses. Gil and Roger were in the clear and would be in the audience to see their shame.

More names blurred on the pages before her tired eyes. Many of them she recognized. Teller had been one, seen as the accomplice who held the former dictator in his bar. Ororo, Jean and Scott were detained at the mansion, accused of who knew what. Matthew was immediately pinned for his previous protests and breaches of peace. Katherine Pryde (a new name residing in Salem Center) was a notorious radical.

The list went on and on. There were three pages of people who had been only guilty of fighting an administration that deemed them undesirable and unworthy of the most basic human compassion. It grieved Danielle. She put her hand on her pregnant belly, wishing with all of her heart that they all be spared this pain, and prayed to some unknown god that they all be found as innocent as the day they were born.

It was too easy to imagine the end. The sentence for their guilt was the most obvious of all.

 _Death._


	60. Absurd Charges and Charades

It had been an intense ride to the US and that was saying a lot.

Throughout the long trip to Washington, DC, the place of their hearing, there had been too many faces blurring into one…late nights where they switched vehicles…mornings where they might not had have left had not their jailers been kind enough to clear out the angry people. There was no doubt that they were under arrest and charged with the most heinous crimes anyone could be accused of. However, they were had been deemed guilty in the public's eyes. There had to be somebody to blame for Ellis' rise and it had to be the people who tried to stop it.

Logan had to snort as he watched the blurry scenery pass him, rattling his chains and aching for a cigar. It was a show trial as far as he was concerned. It was the highlight of everyone's summer, to see a bunch of misfits be put to a bench and to answer for actions they had no control over. It was a farce to even think of it, especially with so many of them hurt, sick or otherwise unable to stand up to face the accusers with a smile.

He only had to thank Roger that it was not worse because it could have been. They had been given prior notice and their arrest was peaceful, albeit frightening when the chains were wrapped around them and Devon had to watch them get taken away. The vans that transported them to the US were comfortable and armored, albeit many bullet holes lined the metal and glass. Several officers of the law from both Canada and the US had been able to protect them and shoo away the protesters and agitators. And best of all, they were represented by the best lawyers given to state criminals.

However, nobody had prepared them for a hatred so intense that Logan could take a knife and cut through it and still be swallowed up by it. The walls of people who had come to see their vehicle run through their city had been deep. That never bothered him. No, he was more concerned for Danielle who felt it. Most of the time, she was thankfully sleeping. When she wasn't, she was trying to sip water or was throwing up in a bucket. Two days of progress had been scattered with the news of their incarceration. She most likely would not recover anytime soon.

Otherwise, Logan did not keep track. He counted thousands of miles until they reached the city where the trouble all began. Rebuilt and looking like new, Washington, DC was tamer compared to outside the city limits. Granted, demonstrators had decided to run into the streets to see if they could be intercepted and killed before reaching a judge and jury, but it had been few. They were kinder to their visitors, some clamoring their innocence as the vans slowed to a back parking lot behind a courthouse and they all were ushered inside.

Chameleon and Logan had to hold Danielle up because she could not walk well. As they did, the metal clanking behind them in their slow progress to the blessed AC, they had to be aware of their surroundings and make sure no assassins were about (they would have been countered anyway, but they did not trust the situation). Guards lined their walkway, guiding them inside, down a hallway and into a back room, where they were directed to sit in hard chairs. Danielle managed enough on her own, the two flanking her in their seats.

Around them had been the accused. Other than themselves and Mae, they had been Ororo, Jean, Scott, Kitty Pryde, Fiona, Jay, Matthew, Teller, Snake Eyes, Jubilee and even Mystique. They remained as quiet as the new arrivals had, choosing instead to save their words for when they were called. All of them had been guilty in one thing or another. But association and pure chance that landed them aimed for a death sentence? _No_. Nobody in the room deserved it.

It was within minutes that the first people were called in, Teller, Snake Eyes and Chameleon. They had been the first three that initiated the step Ellis needed to grab power, using Teller's bar as an excuse to hide his actions. Holding Danielle's hair back as she threw up in a bucket, Logan tuned in, listening to the heckling and screams in the courtroom a short distance away. All three gave a declaration of not guilty of treason, espionage and other charges. When they returned, Jubilee, Mystique and Fiona were led in with the same process and same answer. In the same session, Magneto had been called, but since he had not been found, a representative appointed for him had to declare him absent.

Jean, Scott, Jay and Ororo entered the arena and came back grim-faced. Since nobody had talked about their experiences, Logan had to eye Jean for some help in clarifying. When she obliged, she raised an eyebrow, connecting to him instantly.

 _Yes, Logan?_

 _What happened out there?_

 _There was…a lot of rioting. Everyone had to be calmed down before anyone else was called. That would be Matthew and Kitty Pryde. They seemed to be the worst in the public's eye. Matthew protested against the wrong and Kitty was an underground worker._

 _What crime did you supposedly commit?_

 _Logan!_

 _Hey, I was curious._

Jean sighed outwardly. _What a chance in you. If you must know, there are many. Treason. Espionage. Misconduct. Too many to count and all of them ridiculous._

 _We all think so._

 _Chameleon, Teller and maybe Kitty and Matthew would do the time._

 _And us?_

 _We might. You are definitely on the chopping block._

 _Mae and Danielle?_

 _Guilty by association, if I had to take a guess. I could not read to find an answer. There are too many people and all of them chaotic._

Logan nodded in understanding. He averted his eyes from Jean to avoid a glance from Scott and handed Danielle a cloth to wipe her mouth with. She was finished, anxiously looking around to see if they would be called soon. Logan shook his head to inform her that it was not their turn yet. Two hours passed in relative suspense, all of them on the edge of their toes as the shouting grew louder and their fears for their safety less surreal.

By one in the afternoon, Kitty and Matthew were called out. Upon their entry, Logan heard the commotion outside like it was next to him, cringing when he heard them called terrorists and traitors. Both of them declared themselves not guilty and were removed, but not back to them. Because of the severity of their so-called illegal actions (worse than housing a former dictator apparently), they had been ushered into another room.

Finally, after another hour passed in anticipation, he, Danielle and Mae were called. He and Mae took a side and half-dragged Danielle into the courtroom. On admittance, blinding lights darkened their eyesight. When Logan blinked it away and eyed the person directing them, he followed the lead of a head guard to the stand. The three of them were then motioned to face the judge and jury that sat.

The judge began on the left with Mae, his eyes cold and unsympathetic. "Mae Janet Ellis-Mortimer, you have been accused by the government of the United States of treason, espionage and terrorism. How do you plea?"

"Not guilty," Mae replied stoutly.

Then, the gaze went to the center person. "Danielle Regina Mitchell Ellis, you are accused of the same charges. How do you plea?"

"Not guilty," Danielle said softly. She was almost inaudible.

Finally, it was Logan. "James Howlett, You are the last and the same charges apply in addition coming into the country illegally. How do you plea?"

Logan seethed on the inside. He never referred himself to his birth name since he was ten years old. He had taken his father's surname and used it as his own. Even so, the memories of a faraway time and place overwhelmed him, so much that he was seeing black and red. When Danielle touched his hand to warn him, he calmed down, but not enough to give the judge a piece of his mind…facially anyway. He would be in contempt if he said what he wanted and would make his circumstances worse.

"Not guilty," he declared.

"Case set to trial, hearing for the proceedings on August 9, 2008," the judge decided before the jury got a word in. "Dismissed."

Without having the chance to say anything, the three were pushed out. By then though, the crowds were louder and closer than Logan imagined. He shielded Danielle from the worst, feeling items pellet him, from bricks to rotten food to even mud from the river. The smell of the Potomac was the most prominent. There was no forgetting that scent.

Instead of being placed back in their waiting room, the three had been led out another side doorway. The hallway ahead was dimmed, lighting a single-file pathway to the end, where there was another door. The first guard went first, then it was Mae, Danielle and Logan, with another sentry at the rear. They went forward, following the man in the front as the corridor morphed into a stairwell that only went down in a spiral pattern. There were no windows or other exits and virtually no escape.

Eventually, they reached a basement level that was cooler and less intense than it had been above. Immediately afterward, they were separated. It startled Danielle and Logan both, the two of them trying to grasp each other's hands in a desperate attempt to keep together. With some prompting from the officers on duty, they were taken away in opposite directions. Logan saw that Danielle was put into a cell with some other women on the other end. One of the women gave her space to Danielle, throwing her arms around the pregnant woman in sympathy. Mae was nowhere in sight.

Logan himself was shoved in a cell some yards away, but with shouting distance from Danielle. It wasn't crowded and had a homey charm to it. However, it was made ten times less comfortable with Alex and Scott there. Both brothers scowled at Logan and were embarrassed to be stuck in a cell with him, but said nothing. The latter whispered in the former's ear. When Alex nodded in what appeared to be consent, Scott moved to the other side, squeezing on a bench with Jay and Snake Eyes.

Alex joined Logan, standing beside him near the bars. "How did you get in?"

"I thought you knew I stayed behind," Logan replied.

"Maybe I don't like listening to rumors." Alex grinned.

"Nobody liked me roaming and here I am. How about that?"

"Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage."

"Huh?"

Alex waved his hand. "Never mind. Now, what brings you here?"

"We're all here. You would have more information than I do."

"Well, I do know that we're being tried without us being there to defend ourselves. That's what lawyers are for."

"And?"

"Most likely, we're going to be pardoned and set free. It's all for show, you see."

"That much I figured, jackass."

"However, I am wondering how they're going to kill you?"

"They _can't_."

"My point. Now anyway, this thing is all a performance and we're all getting scared. I am getting you are too."

"You're seeing I'm not amused and in the mood for guessing games."

"Of course. Right. Well, Logan, it's simple. Somebody had to take the fall somewhere. All of our names have been mired and stuck in the mud over the years and it's all Ellis' fault. For others, like Mae and Danielle, they were only related by family and marriage ties. That's big. Ellis tried portraying himself a family man and people ate it up. They thought that Danielle and Mae were all part of the plot."

"There's no way that would happen."

"We know that, Logan, but the general public does not. The government is aware. When Ellis was disposed and did his initial runaround, they investigated his activities and found a treasure trove of information. They kept that secret, including all locations that Danielle, Mae, Storm… _anyone_ …was imprisoned at. Tension built up, Ellis escaped a few times and he was assassinated by none other than us. Thanks are always in order, but that only goes so far."

"We're sacrifices."

"Right again. But the big deal is the pardoning. While they're battling for our lives above our heads, they're keeping us out of the limelight. The less people see us, the better for our cause. Juicy gossip is great, but seeing us would distract and give more to the media. The main stars may be us, but the stories are less interesting. Follow?"

Logan said nothing. _Politics._

"So, we're all going to be held in some place or another until it's over," Alex continued, ignoring the face that Logan did not care. "We'll all be separated again, possibly back to the usual places except Salem Center. All of us who had been there will be put in a safe house. Me and Lorna were actually starting to set up shop before they picked us up. I can't tell you why Lorna was also arrested, but she sure isn't too happy with me."

Logan snorted. "Who can blame her?"

Alex chuckled. "I agree. Nobody can. However, they had not put us on a docket. There's quite a few who do. In essence, we could be sitting here for a few months."

"I don't have that kind of time."

"We all don't. Sit tight, buttercup. What more can you ask other than a relaxing cell with your favorite people?"

Logan glanced back at Jay and Scott for a second. Many unanswered questions tore through his mind, unable to speak up. Sadly, he had to concede that Alex was right. When he inquired when the lawyer was expected, Alex shook his head.

"Next week," Alex guessed. "How the hell should I know? We're in the mire of a smear campaign. Only a good government can lead those sheep home."

Logan did not like it. Leaning against the cold metal bars, his hands just kept inside, his ears searched for Danielle. He was honestly worried about her. For two days before the mail came, she had been able to get up off of the floor and slowly walk outside with aid. She sat in a chair in the sunshine, her morning sickness almost abated, and enjoyed the renewing warmth that summer offered her. Her peace of mind was shattered when Hank brought in the horrible letter and they were arrested the next day.

Danielle was more worried about Devon, who had cried when she was put into handcuffs like a common criminal. While Xavier had promised that he and Hank would watch the kid, there was no guarantee that they would return. With Alex's cynical outlook on life (which was pretty positive for him), there was a chance they would…and begin anew. Devon would have Danielle back in no time flat and they would put this awful episode behind them.

Logan heard Danielle dry heaving from nervousness and the women going ballistic, not knowing what to do with her. He had to use all of the willpower he had not to break free and go to her. In the morning, everything would be clearer. They could get out of here and leave the legal niceties to the slick politicians and slimy lawyers.

 _If only it were that easy…_


	61. Liberation is at Hand

**September 18, 2008**

They had been sitting in their cells for several weeks and nothing had changed. However, a routine was established and changed slightly on occasion when people were declared innocent and sent home or a trial was scheduled and the public hooted in glee. It had been a gradual process, but from Logan had seen, it was also setting the populace for them instead of against.

Regardless, the days started and ended early. Roused from their stiff slumbers at six in the morning after nine hours of darkness, they were all given breakfast, which was passed around. Nothing special, maybe some toast or scrambled eggs if they were lucky. Coffee was out of the question, but canteens of waters were handed out and filled often. Around eight, they were allowed out of their confined space and told to walk around a circle in the exercise yard outside. It was their social hour and the only one, with hardly any talking and every chance for opportunists to see them and jeer.

When they were ordered back inside at nine, they had prepare for their daily inspection. The chief of the department had his men would escort them to another room as officials checked every corner of their seclusion, in the meantime taking evidence that there was no wrongdoing and that the prisoners were living normally. Then, before and after their one o'clock lunch, they would receive visitors, mostly to be interviewed by various government people or family and friends bringing presents and love. They were not allowed to mingle with anyone from the opposite gender though and families remained separated.

Oftentimes, Devon was ushered in, watched carefully by Hank and/or Xavier. He would bring Logan notes from Danielle and then take down messages for him to give to her. Logan was not one to write them. He preferred word of mouth, but even then he was careful and grumbled to the kid. They were recorded and observed so closely that even visitors were detained and questioned if there was anything amiss.

This made Logan so worried about Danielle. He wouldn't admit it, growling at anyone who tried to talk to him and keeping to himself. However, he thought of her often. Her messages told him about how her morning sickness was hardly abating and the stench of the women's prisons were pungent. Many of the people had fallen ill and shipped to an infirmary outside of the facility, but not her. She was a special case, tended to by another RN who at first thought she was faking it until put on a twenty-four/seven observation.

It was a hard blow. To think that the widow of a ruthless dictator was that badly treated to begin with was a horrible concept. She had not done anything wrong except being forced to marry a man who was bent on dominance and prestige. Being faultless and undergoing these trials made Logan's blood boil. It took all of his willpower not to break the bars and go to her, thinking that Xavier was right. He had to control his impulses.

However, Devon was always a help until shooed away for their five o'clock dinnertime. Oddly enough, Logan was affectionate towards the kid, who was dedicated to their wellbeing and would do anything for Danielle. He had grown up a lot in the last few months, this being the worst he had to endure since being rescued, and he was given the confidence and support from a man dedicated to children was the best decision Danielle made for him. Xavier had taken him under his wing and that alone was the best beginning even he could have.

And that was the best Logan could hope for, even if his inner animal was raging to get out. In the meantime, he had to contend with the Summers brothers, Jay, Snake Eyes and Teller. Chameleon had been housed elsewhere after two weeks, waiting for the Canadian and US governments to vouch that he was rehabilitated enough to leave. Matthew protested so violently against his incarceration that he was in solitary confinement.

They all were just as much of a pain in the ass as ever. Jay and Scott scowled at him as often as they could (then again, they did it to each other too, a reassurance that some things did not change). Snake Eyes and Teller debated on the future of the bar and the capable hands they left it in. Alex had been the only one who was willing to deal with Logan and that said a lot, considering his drunkenness in the past and inability to cope with what Vietnam had given him.

Eventually though, their numbers dwindled more so that a handful were left behind at the end of the season. First, it was Snake Eyes, who was proclaimed innocent and released. He had been small potatoes anyway and everyone knew that he had been tortured at the camps and facilities. Next was Jay and Fiona, declared victims of the regime. Jubilee and Mystique were sent to another building with more privileges and then departed when it was found out that they were agents of the government the whole time anyway.

Finally, the lawyer's work paid off and public sympathy truly began. By the time that happened, Jean, Scott and Ororo had been released just before Labor Day, when it was revealed that they either been captured and/or in hiding. Finally, Roger was sent to fetch Mae, whose plight was openly broadcasted and set everyone in tears. This left behind Danielle, Logan and Alex (excluding Chameleon and Matthew), the last that nobody knew what to do with.

One evening in the middle of September, after dinner had been handed out and the hour chimed seven, Logan noticed that Alex was sitting cross-legged near the metal doorway. Now, he knew Alex's routine since being stuck in a hole with him. Alex never gave a reason to get in trouble and had even stayed away from freedom, choosing to sleep against the wall or in a corner on the floor. To the former soldier, liberation was much too far away and a goal he did not make. Solitary activities was the most comfortable routine he had.

Logan approached Alex, handing him a bowl of what appeared to be a soup of some kind. The weather had turned unusually cold and nasty and being underground was no help. "What you thinking?" he asked Alex, unsure of what answer he would receive.

"Soon," Alex answered. He accepted the food grateful and sipped slowly from the round edge.

"For what?" Logan had many possibilities that played in his mind. Alex was a jackass and always had to be cryptic, he concluded.

"Getting out of here. I can _feel_ it."

"I can feel many things and none of them involve a warm bed and woman."

"No, Logan. That's not it. Change is in the air. It's obvious."

"I think you've been hanging around your sister-in-law too much."

Alex shot Logan a dirty look, putting down his bowl on the floor. "That's not what I mean. I've been hearing news."

"That what?"

"We're going to be out of here."

"So we've been promised. It's been a while."

"Things take time, Logan. People can't change overnight. Patience is our best virtue."

"It's quicker than we expected, I'll admit, but we're still the monsters. They're not going to forgive us."

"The turnaround is good. However, the matter of what to do with a bunch of ninja mutants and Ellis' family remains a mystery. Us? We'll be fine. Danielle might be imprisoned or in hiding for a while."

"And her kids?"

"What kids?" Alex was confused.

"She had two sons with Ellis," Logan clarified.

"Oh, _that_. Unknown. I would assume that, with their pursuer's name cleared except on terrorist charges, they would not be molested. They're only children and had nearly been killed."

"And us?"

"Who knows? I am thinking by the end of this month we'll be back in our warm and cozy homes. Charles has been working so hard on our behalf. He and Hank also put in immigration paperwork for you too. They've been waiting on month for a hearing."

"Making me a citizen and it's official finally?"

"After recent events, they had to. It also makes you look good."

Logan shook his head. He liked being off the charts. Initially, that was his job to keep invisible. He could run undetected and not be bothered. Ever since Ellis and his paper-pushing cronies came along, he had been marked as an enemy and a potentially dangerous too. The tattoos, especially on him, remained on everyone as a reminder of harder times, but it also told him that life was never going to be the same as before. He would be a man that everyone knew was several years old and a runaway from multiple wars and historical events and people.

"So, when can I expect this honor?" Logan tasted bile in his mouth talking about it.

Alex shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows? Just smile and nod, Logan. It'll get you out of here."

The subject was closed. Alex retreated back into himself, his face almost like a statue and his food forgotten on the floor next to his feet. Logan decided then that it was a good idea to back away, feeling that he was beating a dead body. With so much space left to them, it was easier to find a spot to lay down. Curling up in a corner and kicking off his boots, Logan closed his eyes. He didn't expect sleep to come, even if he was courting it. He only wanted the slow time to pass before he woke up.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Logan heard the usual footsteps of their guards and would have ignored it, but a key entered their lock. He was up in the minute, his claws shining in the darkness and waiting in anticipation. However, he calmed and retracted them when he sensed no immediate hazard, sitting quietly as a man entered and stood over Alex's sleeping form.

Roughly, Alex was shaken at the shoulder, an action that shot him up in the same defensive stance Logan previously had. The guard immediately put a stop to any strikes when his partner came up from behind and restrained Alex. Alex himself then relaxed when a whisper informed him that Lieutenant Sanders wanted to see him.

 _Not again._

Logan was as trusting of Sanders as he was of Roger except he knew the master spy would have had his back anytime. Sanders had been in and out of his life ever since Ellis was assassinated. He was capable of keeping people in line if it was to the benefit of the current administration and would get anyone the best deal if they were in trouble. Logan only had to remember his presence in previous instances where they were up against a brick wall. This was no man to mess with, most certainly not now.

Alex soon departed with the man, the key locking Logan inside. He waited patiently for Alex's return, but it did not come. Just before dawn, when the night allowed purple lines to shine into the hallway outside, someone returned for Logan. He was calm when he was told that Sanders also needed to see him. Thinking of what Alex told him, he followed his guard back upstairs to the waiting room where they anxiously sat in anticipation for their futures. Then, the entranceway to the empty courtroom opened.

Their footsteps echoed in what was a packed room days before. Logan was led to a table at the front, normally reserved for those who had been accused of a crime. He was motioned to sit and to wait for Sanders to come. When the lieutenant finally entered, a thick pile of papers in his hands, he shooed the sentry away. He then pulled a chair from the opposite table and sat across from Logan, the papers now between them.

Even in the silence of the pre-dawn hour, Sanders was serious. "You know what this is?" he asked Logan.

"Your problem," Logan replied tartly.

"That's right," Sanders said. "It _is_ my problem. _You_ are the issue. You've been the biggest pain in the ass since the captain decided to pass out at our first interrogation. Since then, let's just say I've taken an interest in your group. Well, I should say, Charles Xavier's group that he created. Since 1962, news has leaked about misfits and mutants like you. Other military and government sects have taken advantage of those powers and misused them. I am sure you remember William Stryker?"

The name chilled Logan. "Can't say I have."

Sanders regarded the lie with nothing more than a smile. "Well, he's dead now, so he wouldn't matter now, would he? Besides, we have more important matters to discuss, most of them about your legal immigration."

"My _what_?" Logan played stupid.

"I would assume you'd want to live back in Salem Center," Sanders explained, going along with the game. "Your friends and family are there. Your whole livelihood depended on that one town. On and off since 1973, you've been spotted there, Logan. You cannot deny that it's your home now."

Logan chose to say nothing. Sanders would find everything out on his own anyway.

Regardless, Sanders continued. "You have a couple of choices here, Logan. You can sit here and allow us to continue through with your trial and have us vilify you. You'll have to get your own defense, spend time in prison and possibly face a sentence that I cannot imagine the length of. You'll never see the light of day again. No visitors allowed, food shoved in a hole and any equipment used against you to keep you sedated. I have your life in front of me, Logan. Everybody is going to know your name, your family and your actions. And that's not pretty, if you ask me."

"What's the other choice?"

"Sign these papers on the dotted line. Swear allegiance to the United States, to protect us from all opponents foreign and domestic, etc. Gain a life here that you never had before. A social security number, a new birth certificate and a paper trail that nobody will question. Everything and anything you did in the past will be null and void. You won't have to admit to being almost two hundred years old, Logan. For all I care, you can pick an age and run with it."

"And any career I choose to have?"

"You can be trained or pick a job. I am sure Charles Xavier would love to have you back."

That wasn't an exciting prospect, but Logan accepted it. History teacher at a school full of freakish kids who are different was the last thing he wanted to do. However, what choice did he have? Even if Sanders decided to feed him to the wolves, he'll come back victorious…and without a chance to live peacefully and to lead the pack. That was what Logan wanted in the end, to not have to fight anymore. That, and to contend with the possibility of being a parent, which was so foreign to him that it was frightening.

Logan felt cornered, a concept he never liked, but now had to cope with. Defeated, he pulled out all of Sanders' papers, trying to find the one he needed to sign. Sanders assisted him, working quickly to ensure that Logan did not see the rest of the pile, and handed him the needed piece. However, it was too late. Logan glimpsed at pages of his life, most of them involving him in Canada and how it was spotty at best and evolving around his early life and how he snuck across borders without detection for decades.

 _Let them have it._

Akin to selling his soul to the devil, Logan signed away his life for the first and last time. It was awkward holding the heavy pen and scribbling an illegible signature, but it was done. Sanders took it as is, gathering his piles and straightening them out. Hiding them under his arm again, he sat up and left without saying another word. This signaled the guard who brought him. He led Logan back to his cell and locked it like he would if prisoners were inside.

Like a caged animal, Logan paced his cell until breakfast was served. He hardly ate, only giving back the bowl that Alex did not eat from and leaving his toast and water on the spare bunk hanging from the wall. Devon visited him at the usual time, carrying a message from the nurse that watched over Danielle. Unable to speak, she wrote something to her companion and it was repeated verbally to Devon. She only stated that the sun was rising.

It was an obvious statement and a pretty stupid one too. Logan rolled his eyes, growling about women. Devon took it as a hint to scamper off. When he did, Xavier approached and glanced through the metal bars. He smiled, highly amused.

"Logan, don't you read between the lines?" he inquired.

It was still dumb of Danielle to send Devon with a message like that. Logan crossed his arms, silently wishing that a kid did not have to play this part. Suddenly, he did not want visitors anymore. When he looked up to tell Xavier to fuck off, the Professor was gone. He wheeled himself down to the women's section. Logan did not know it yet, but it would be the last he would see of Xavier for months, making him regret his behavior.

The next morning, he and Danielle were released and sent back to Canada.


	62. Moving Forward

**January 5, 2009**

The winter was already too long and harsh and boring. Ever since September, when Danielle and Logan returned to their safe house in Canada, the autumn and then the cold had been creeping up on them, isolating them from communicating with the outside world. Worse yet was the wait and their loneliness. Along with Devon, Roger and Mae, they alone had been sent back to their exile and to wait upon word to return to New York. A hearing had already been scheduled the month before to determine eligibility for entry for all of them and had been accepted after hours of deliberation.

That ordeal was over. Now, it was a game of patience and allowing the wheels of numerous bureaucratic offices to work their magic. Paperwork had been passed through a million hands and had been stamped and signed. Sometimes, messages came back that something was missing or did not get submitted in time when it did. Logan would sigh and curse and Roger would yell at somebody over the phone, but it was finally done eventually, when Lieutenant Sanders took control and speeded up the process. All that was needed was Logan's citizenship swearing and the court date for Devon's adaption. All of it was scheduled in February.

It was a month away and it felt that it coming too quickly for the household that packed and cleaned the home they had known since their freedom was declared. In the time it took for a decision to be made though, life had gone on as it had before except without Xavier, Gil and Hank. The Professor himself had packed his things and was allowed to go home. Hank followed him (as he always did) and Gil decided to go ahead and settle back into their house in Salem Center, choosing to clean it out for his parents.

Even without them, the holiday season had been cheery and full of hope and anticipation. No gifts had been exchanged except giving some to Devon. The adults relaxed to some hot chocolate or coffee (Roger and Logan spiking theirs with the alcohol they stored in the former's office) and watched the news with some dread, although it had been good and in their favor. After their arrest and short incarceration, there had been a lot of that and nothing else, most of it propaganda from the new government that would boost their image and show them as a world power. Everyone had been singing their praises anyway, mostly of their fairness, kindness and mercy.

It was enough to make Logan puke. Sitting in the basement on that cold morning (still his sanctuary, even after his hook-up with Danielle), he smoked his cigar in some peace, a cold beer bottle wedged between the couch cushions for an easy reach. Everything whirled around him in overwhelming circles, most of it about where his life was heading towards and why. He had been on those thoughts for the past few months now. It was also frightening to believe that he, alone out of their group, would be a father to soon-to-be four children, coupling with what he believed was the most beautiful woman he ever met and loved.

When pesky Roger decided that it was time to bother Logan again, he came downstairs in his usual fashion. He held a letter in his hands, grinning. This was suspicious. Logan never knew what it meant when the master spy decided to be friendly, usually chalking it up to Roger asking for a favor.

"Good news," Roger announced, standing before Logan. "This here says that we can leave Canada whenever we want. Salem Center has been cleared of all followers of Ellis and has calmed down for the most part. They were causing enough trouble because of us."

Logan leaned back in his seat. "What do we do now?"

"Live," Roger suggested, shrugging his shoulders. "They sued for peace and won. They cleared our names and we survived. Quiet is the name of the game for the time being. I'm sure they'll call us again or tell us what to do, like keeping our heads down."

"And then what?"

"Well, this is a strange one for me too, Logan. I've never lived my days without action before. However, I think I found something that would keep me busy."

"Oh?"

"Self-defense classes. Charles thinks that it's time to continue them. He has hope as always, but after so much that's happened, it's time to keep the little brats in line."

"I take it the school is finally opening?"

"It's official that we're opening our doors in August. Charles got permission to and paid a pretty penny, although he's been rebated every fee that Ellis laid on him and then some. Now, he can make the extra wing for college students, ust as he planned over twenty years ago."

"College?"

"Yeah. Sort of like a community college. He wants all kinds of people there, not just mutants."

Logan shook his head. Xavier was a big dreamer and this was no exception. It would be a good step and one towards reconciliation between all parties. He knew the school would be slow-working at first, but it would grow with his ideas becoming reality. After twenty years, who would tell how much of an impact it would make?

"We're… _forgiven_ in many way," Roger continued. "I believe that people see we've been the ones who were injured and that we've been fighting the whole time. Like the disbanded Black Serpents and the survivors, we want to continue to live our lives as before."

"Your line of work will never end," Logan predicted.

"And you have a new one," Roger countered with a snicker.

Logan did not need reminding. Two months to go before the baby was born and it was already agony and dreadful waiting for the momentous event. Danielle seemed pretty patient about it though and was…well, _cheery_ about it, even though her moods mostly varied from day to day. After the initial three and a half months of sickness, she made up for lost time and energy, bustling about, cleaning out rooms and keeping house. That alone was a good sign, but it would be temporary. If Michael's birth was a reminder of things to come, then it would be a long road before Danielle would recover.

To show that he was still the same person (at least to Roger anyway), he pulled out the bottle from the cushion and drank. Danielle would not appreciate the gesture later on down the road (she even mentioned that they had to be serious in front of the kids), but he wasn't changing who he was. It was something he resolved, even if he could not keep up with the appearance of being an intolerant asshole. Already, Devon was worming his way into Logan's heart. He didn't try much at first, especially after their release from prison, but after a short period of time, he treated Logan with more respect.

Logan could not tell himself why, but he had to love Devon. He didn't feel that it was a choice. It kind of grew on him and blossomed into something he did not want to name nor did he want to acknowledge yet. He could pretend all he wanted that he was still tough and gruff. If he kept that up, it might save him in the future instead of allowing himself to wallow in an emotionless state like he did before.

 _Gotta be because of Danielle._

Best of all was the family unit they were slowly forming. At first, Logan thought that Devon would be pushed to the side, only a reminder of the fill-in he made when Danielle did not have her biological children with her. Now pregnant, she had been including him more and more into her inner circle and treating him like family as she always had. His adaption next month even indicated that she was serious and would not harbor any second thoughts. Logan wasn't either, although he decided not to put his name on paper…yet.

When Roger did not receive a vocal answer, he sighed, sitting down next to Logan. "Listen, Logan, this is a newer future and I am honestly scared. I've never dealt with something so different from the world we were born in and had to grow up hating."

"Man will never learn," Logan pointed out, placing his beer bottle on the floor this time. He never heard the master spy confess anything as trivial as fright before, so this was pretty interesting.

"And neither will we, Logan. This is something we acknowledged as totally different. We would have to adapt as we've always done. Love, peace and hippie grease is what everyone is looking for…except for the whole community part. The government is cracking down on them for now."

Logan cringed. He did not want to remember the sixties. However, if this is the way things are doing, he wouldn't mind that, just as long as everyone washed in water and not herbal oils. It was better than being singled out and tagged, plummeting everyone in social and political turmoil and watching the one woman he loved in recent decades fall because of it.

"When if your oath taking?" Roger then asked, seeing that Logan was still not talkative. He wanted the information just because he wanted it, an old habit he knew would never die.

"Next month." Logan put his cigar out on the ashtray next to him. "Let's hope nobody finds me afterward."

Roger grinned, his face illuminated by an idea. "I'm pretty sure the smoke screen can be kept," he said, a plan already in place. "You can be as anonymous as you used to be, Logan. You'll see. Just be patient and wait."

~00~

Everything happened all at once. Instead of being called the next month like had been planned, all of them were told to pack up and leave by the middle of January. There was an open opportunity without the ugliness of protesters and some good weather made the route safer than an icy February. Not to mention, there was a swearing-in ceremony for new citizens that fled their countries of origin and they had a slot for Logan. Around the world, everything had been changing and new terrorists groups had sprouted and sprung into action.

The new US government, with their exciting elections coming up in November, was not keen on tracking down the global enemies, despite cries for help (tit for tat, as the other world powers never answered theirs when Ellis took power), and focused instead on who was coming into the country and issuing severe background checks when they flocked to their borders. Outrage was placed with the amount of people pouring into the US. Fears had been real since the threats were tracked daily and propaganda placed it all on the refugees. Security was a priority and hiding amidst people's attention elsewhere was a plus.

By the end of the month, Logan, Danielle and Devon were situated in New York City, Roger and Mae already gone ahead to Salem Center. A hotel room had been provided to them by Lieutenant Sanders and would serve as their home for the time being. When he ordered them, they would then retreat back to Salem Center and a normal life again. First's things first though. Devon's adaption hearing and name change was moved up and that had to be handled before anything else.

At this point, as far as Logan knew now, Devon was his and Danielle's (well, because he was with her, he had to accept the kid, even if he did not like it being official). Last names were small compared to the big picture of being together and becoming a unit they visualized. A strange concept to him since being a loner was always his lot in life, but nonetheless, after so much uncertainly and anger, it soothed him. There was peace coming. He would not have to fight again.

On the appointed day, not even twenty-four hours before entering the city, Logan, Danielle and Devon took the bus and entered the courthouse, Sanders behind them as a witness of their next trial. Now anonymous with hundreds of other petitioners and prisoners, they waited an hour before being called. Nervous despite the good outcome, the trio entered with the lieutenant behind them, sat down at a bench and waited through the hearing. Devon was fidgety, swinging his legs back and forth and waiting for the end. Danielle put a hand on his knee to still him, but that did not work. Instead, she allowed him to lean into her pregnant body, his head resting on her shoulder.

Finally, the judge ended, his eyes squinting to read the last of the print. "The court has also received a petition from Danielle Regina Ellis on a name change and that Devon Williamson is requesting the same. Is that correct?"

Danielle stood up, Logan and Devon alongside her, while Sanders remained seated. "Yes, your Honor."

"The court asks why you are inquiring this."

"Emotional trauma, your Honor. I was formally in a…very bad relationship, as well you know. It was abusive and I was debased in the most inhumane ways. I wish from the court that my name be changed back to my maiden name of Mitchell. In addition, we are requesting of the court that Devon Williamson's surname also be changed to Mitchell for the same reasons, even of his circumstances are different than mine."

"And your husband?"

"Dead, your Honor, if you have not heard the news. He was…murdered almost two years ago."

"Do you know who and why?"

Danielle exchanged a quick look with Logan before turning back to the judge. "No, your Honor. I was blindfolded and did not see anything. I could not use my powers, even if I wanted to, and was neutralized."

It did not appear that he believed Danielle. As she previously swore an oath to tell the truth, he had to take it at face-value. Banging his gravel, he declared the petitions valid and allowed the change to occur. Sanders sighed with relief, but even that was temporary. When Logan was asked about his activities, he had to stand up and answer before anyone did. Sanders did not want this messed up, especially when he worked so hard for this to come through.

"A ward of the present government, your Honor," Sanders stated smoothly. "He has been carefully observed and deemed to be no danger to our country. The past may show otherwise, but his future plans do not include violence."

The judge nodded, opting not to pursue the matter when he saw the defensiveness in Sanders' manner. "I see. Case dismissed!"

Danielle had not realized that she was holding her breath. When she released it, she saw the rush to get out, sign her papers and leave. When that was finished, she, Logan and Devon went back outside into the slushy winter of New York City. Standing on the top steps of the courthouse, they all did not know what to do. When Sanders nudged them to move, they obeyed, walking back to the bus stop and waiting for their ride. Under the plastic awning, they remained silent. The future was on their minds. It was better than anticipated, but nonetheless with so many possibilities that they were ecstatic about it.

Three days later, Logan was summoned to the iconic Ellis Island, the beginning point for all immigrants, and stood in the great hall with a hundred more people as he swore his oath as a citizen. With quiet crowds watching from above (Danielle and Devon included), the familiar words echoed in the building that always held optimism for the new life. As it was a hundred years before, voices mingled in harmony as the familiar words were spoken simultaneously.

 _I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state or sovereignty, of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen; that I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will bear arms on behalf of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform noncombatant service in the Armed Forces of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by the law; and that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; so help me God._


	63. In Light of Recent Developments

Just before January slipped into February, Sanders gave the signal for the trip to leave New York City. Quietly early one morning, Logan, Danielle and Devon checked out of their hotel and went into a waiting vehicle outside the entranceway. While Sanders reassured them many times that their remaining belongings would follow them, they were still going to Salem Center with few changes of clothes, some toys and themselves…and with family and friends ahead of them.

Without seatbelts and a suspension available in their taxi (supplies being as they were), the ride was very bumpy. With Devon wedged between them, Danielle watched the scenery change from the busy urban surroundings to a highway that led to the quaint countryside. It was usually a half hour drive from the city to Salem Center, but that alone turned into a nightmare as the traffic grew heavy and still. After a few hours, it moved again and their driver was able to cross and move towards Yonkers and Westchester. When they entered into Salem Center, she had to hold her breath.

It was a disaster. While she remembered it still being in the process of reconstruction and the people emerging from their darkness, it had seemed that her hometown collapsed while she was gone and transformed into a ghost town, worse than it was before. Businesses that had been reopening had been looted and their walls burnt. Houses and above-business apartment had been trashed. The roads needed serious work and the farms were barren of crops due to the soil corruption. She brushed away tears, forcing herself to look forward, not backwards. Everything can be fixed. This place was just required a little more effort and needed some love is all.

Before long, they arrived back at the mansion and were dropped off unceremoniously, their fare paid by Sanders already. There had been no one there to greet them or to open the door. Indeed, when Danielle scanned the area, feeling dizzy from using her powers so much, she found everyone scattered all over the place and cleaning harshly. She signaled for Jean on the first floor to open the entranceway before Logan decided to break it open. He was already frustrated with it being locked and with Devon behind him trying to be as annoyed as a young teenager could be.

When Jean allowed them inside, they all choked and coughed upon entry. The smell of cleaning solutions and other chemicals had overwhelmed them, so much that Danielle begged for a window to be opened. Jean obliged, sliding one up enough to allow the cold to stay outdoors and to clear the air. She then directed Devon to another room to hang out with kids his own age and motioned for Danielle and Logan to follow her upstairs.

When they reached an empty bedroom, they stopped, far enough away to be out of earshot. "I know you've just arrived, but we have so much to do," Jean explained in a hurry. "We have an inspection next week and their standards are…a lot higher than expected. They are not making any concessions."

"What do you mean?" Logan asked. His tone was very dark, a reply almost akin to his response to someone invading his home.

"Just that they expect certain foods, conditions, books and classes," Jean continued. "We have to seal the underground rooms for now. We cannot open or admit to the Danger Room. The X-Men cannot be known until there's time that we can make ourselves a presence."

"Sounds… _exasperating_ ," Danielle observed.

"Very much so," Jean admitted. "We're going to need as much help as we can. Logan, the Professor situated you with Roger for security for the time being. We still have some pranksters who like throwing eggs and toilet paper."

Logan nodded, keeping his breathing even from the relief he felt. This made him more relaxed, although the prospect of working with Roger was a daunting task. His favorite part of the game was about to begin once more. Hopefully, the master spy would not spoil anything.

"Danielle, we need you to clean as much as you can," Jean said to her. "Follow me and Storm. Rest when you're tired."

This was the end of their instructions. Logan departed as quickly as he could, shedding his one backpack in the next bedroom (which happened to be theirs anyway), leaving Danielle alone with Jean. The former followed the latter outside and down the hallway. They took another stairwell that led to the classrooms downstairs, greeting everyone who happened to be there, known or unknown.

Danielle recognized very few people, most of them she recalled from either the past, rescues or by word of mouth. She waved and muttered a few words of encouragement when she was allowed to, even hugging her sister-in-law and nephew when she saw them. She did not see Jay though, thinking of him as she and Jean closeted themselves into a dusty room down towards the end of a corridor.

She looked around her. "I don't remember this place much, but it's familiar."

"It was your favorite place as a child," Jean pointed out, clicking her tongue over a corner of dust on top of a piano. She used her mind to bring over a feather duster, using it to peel away the aged layers. "I believe you hid here more often when you were six."

"I did, didn't I?" Danielle looked around in amazement. It was the music room all right, old, dirtied and neglected, but still the same as it was years ago. "I hope it will be filled with noise soon."

"By August," Jean promised. "We have to get through the state checking us out before we allow more students in. We're breaking the rules having teenagers here. However, we you can see, we're already getting a good crowd."

"Devon safe?"

"I would think so, yes. Cable and Rachel are there, so at least there are people he knows. Scott is supervising. It's… _interesting_ to see him keep watch over so many kids."

"He's perfect for the job."

"You're just saying that because it tortures him. Can you imagine Logan doing it?"

"Partially, I confess, but that's not the case. I seriously believe Scott is good with the kids."

"Liar."

"Am not!"

It was an accepted challenge now. Jean dropped her grimy duster and Danielle stared at her with red eyes. They both didn't move, attempting to gauge and anticipate what the other was doing, and soon were ordering trivial items to be picking up and thrown at each other, although never hurtful on purpose. It was harmless and all in good fun. Dust bunnies mostly were used, but Jean even used some wadded-up papers and a wash cloth that had dried out days ago. Danielle was out of breath, giggling hysterically as she pulled as much power as she could without incurring Jay's attention.

An hour passed before the two quit. Tired, they both retreated to some chairs leftover from ages past. Danielle was careful, knowing that her extra weight could possibly break one, and gingerly sat down. Jean copied her, rubbing the brown particles out of her red hair. It danced in the late winter sunshine, now peeking through a window with trepidation.

"How's Jay?" Danielle asked. She had not seen him yet and was anxious to hug her brother and tell him everything.

"Not well," Jean admitted with hesitation. "He didn't take too many things well."

"Like what?" Danielle was dreading this.

"Well, for one thing, there's Logan," Jean explained. The name told everything. "That and your pregnancy topped everything. Before, he was constantly petitioning for your return. He was frustrated that it was delayed. The trials slowed everything down. Your health was…something that threw a monkey wrench into his plans."

"But now, we're here. He should be appreciative that his efforts were not in vain. I am grateful for his work."

"He's broken, Danielle. Broken, depressed and drinking. He's overjoyed having his family back. However, his own demons will continue to haunt him for a while. Fiona and Jax cannot fix that completely, especially since they have their own problems."

"No, I agree. How can I help?"

"Be there. It's going to take time to heal. We all are experiencing our past over and over again and trying to cope with it. A dark age has become history. We now have a new future."

"So everyone is saying. I have yet to see it."

"Here, it's different, Danielle. This is where it all began. It's tougher because there were people…and still are…who adore your husband and mourn his loss. They resent having to be told that Ellis is no longer a leader and that they have to obey a new government they have no respect for. They also are bent on revenge, which is why it took so long for some of us to arrive home. None of us wanted to leave Salem Center. This is our home and for some of us, our only."

Danielle heard the wistfulness in Jean's voice. She knew that Jean had been rejected by her parents, especially after her friend was hit by a car and her powers developed during the ensuing traumatic death. She was eventually sent to Salem Center, her parents to never see her again. Jean made her home with Xavier like many others before and after her. She could not turn back to her old life or make another elsewhere.

"I understand." Danielle nodded steadily. "I am hoping my presence doesn't constitute another riot."

"Not too many people have heard, although rumors are rife," Jean conformed. "There aren't too many people left in town anyway. Most of them have been jailed or driven out. Others are staying quiet."

"What happens then? When everyone isn't here anymore and it's just us who rattle around this empty place?"

"It's not only us here, Danielle. It'll be a while before people come out and refraining from remaining indoors. The police have yet to restore order, which is why Logan was chosen."

"Like he and Roger are going to work out well. I think an argument is coming."

Jean's eyes glistened with mischief. "I doubt it. Knowing Logan, I believe he'll actually enjoy what Roger has planned, even if that spy happens to be the most annoying man we've ever known."

~00~

Logan was appreciative that Jean ordered him outside. He quickly found an opportunity not to deal with the short end of the cleaning and was appointed to what he did best, even if Roger was a pain in the ass. Indeed, the master spy was even waiting for him in the driveway, his arms full of what appeared to be weapons and some cans of paint. It was perplexing to see that, but Logan figured he had a plan.

"We've got some target practice," Roger announced gleefully, leading a trek to the woods. "We're going to have a little fun with the paintball guns today."

"I never thought to see you stop so childishly low," Logan observed crisply as he followed Roger. He wasn't keen on playing with these sorts of games.

"Not childish, just pinning the blame on the proper people," Roger explained. "It's easier to get these guys who are bombing us with their pranks. Besides, the paint stays on them and the only way to wash it off is a shower at the police station. Gotta love chemicals of today. Nobody in their right minds would bother us after dealing with the cops."

"Are we landing them in prison?"

"You're getting the drift, Logan. Let's go."

The stream where they used to sit and watch Salem Center was now muddy and full of slush. The water levels, which used to be dried up and dusty in 1996, were presently high and even flooding the log that everyone used to sit on. Grunting, Logan found another foothold to climb the tree on Roger's signal, his boots filling with cold water as they made contact with the ground. The master spy followed suit, handing the equipment up to Logan on the first branch.

When they settled on their old perch, Roger spoke. "Remember how we used to sit up here and go to town?"

"So to speak." Logan did not want to think of those memories. They were still hazy like a dream, but whirled in his mind like a mirage.

"Good days."

"Not really."

"Well, regardless, Logan, I think we found out something about this spot that nobody else had."

"What's that?"

"We can see everything up here and not just Salem Center."

Logan conceded. He could see the whole of Salem Center and then some of Westchester too if he did a three-sixty. In addition, they could clearly see the gate. A couple of kids were trying to climb it, their leader taking the risk of jumping in first to explore the terrain. All of them carried something on their backs, most likely packs filled with their own weapons, and their hands shook with want of using them. Logan watched closely. Once the leader hopped over and told the others it was safe, three others crawled over, thinking themselves slick with their ninja moves.

Upon seeing them, Roger pulled out the cans and filled the necessary equipment with large beads. He then handed equipment to Logan. "Aim for the chests," he instructed. "Takes their breath away and marks them good."

To demonstrate, Roger took his and fired quickly and without discrimination. A blue glob soon hit the chest of the first kid in. He collapsed to the ground dramatically, moaning about being struck by the enemy and gasping for air. Drastically, the others took on the mission, throwing down their bags and digging for their own weapons.

Logan was not about to strike down a bunch of children, but he felt there wasn't a choice. All was fair in war and being stuck pushing back teenagers who thought they were cool was boring. However, watching the battle between them and Roger was too funny not to join in. Taking his chances, he picked up the paintball gun and fired.


	64. The Last Adventure

**March 10, 2009**

It was too bittersweet, Danielle had to admit, and it would only get worse from this moment onward if she brooded on it. The day before, she given birth to another boy, a mutant and an exact replica of his father, but the only child who was able to greet him was Devon. Even Logan had yet to meet his son, busy as he was traveling around town to prevent lawlessness from continuing. Riley and Michael were still missing as well and could not share in this moment with her.

Feeding her son, who was nameless for the time being (although a few ideas bounced in her head), Danielle thought about the fractured family she had. Watching her newborn soon sigh with content and fall asleep made her sadder all the same. She burped him, which merited some crying on his end (being awake was so tough), and soon curled him back into the crook of her arm. She waited until he settled down again and observed his dark eyes flutter before they closed. His unruly hair even relaxed and behaved when she combed it back with her fingers.

 _Yes, he is so much like Logan. I wonder how he'll react…_

Throughout her pregnancy, Logan had been as supportive as he could without appearing to care. That had been another reaction to their budding relationship. He was there and he wasn't, his mind working towards peace and not war, although the conflict remained. It had been a disagreeing thing for Logan, but with the fun he was having outside, the two seemed one and the same. Salem Center was still full of outlaws and the police were none too happy about it and some too corrupt to care. It was still an ongoing battle to keep the natives quiet and help was always needed and appreciated, even if it was ongoing.

Mae fluttered in and out of the infirmary, now reopened until they could establish something more permanent upstairs. After all, it was not advisable to keep it there now that the government knew who they were, what they were capable of and the weapons they could use against them. Complying was the best way to get through, but a little defiance was something enjoyed by all, Mae especially, who loved to have her old haunt in working order. In the meantime, she peeked in, checking on both mother and child, and offered to take the baby away.

"Not yet," Danielle said, wishing to hold him a little longer. "Maybe in an hour?"

Mae frowned. "He'll have to be _fed_ in an hour. I can take care of that. You have a visitor."

"Who?"

"I think you know."

Danielle only had to sense her surroundings to figure that out. Smiling, she gave Mae the baby and waited patiently until she was out of sight, although her arms felt empty without her child. When Xavier wheeled in, a frown of his own on his face, Danielle had to use every ounce of strength to not cry. There was news, she knew, and it wasn't going to be good. She only hoped there was some happy mixed in there.

Xavier settled next to Danielle's bed. "I have word from Erik," he began, unsure of how else to proceed. "He is currently under arrest and planning his escape."

"For what?" Danielle could not believe it. After all this time, Magneto had escaped the clutches of the authorities and had stuck his tongue out at the succeeding administration. Now, he was incarcerated and without a way to keep his word.

"He had declined to join us at the capital," Xavier reminded her. "In absence, he was sentenced as a terrorist and a murderer. He still had not finished his term and this made matters worse."

Tears welled up in Danielle's reddening eyes. "But…but his search…"

"Has turned up more than we bargained for," Xavier quickly stated to calm her. "We now have the coordinates. Michael and Riley have been found."

"Where?"

"If I told you, Danielle, I would imagine that you would forget your youngest son and scurry away."

"You're right, Professor. I would leave Daken behind and see to Michael and Riley. I would also trust very few people to retrieve them."

"That is why I am organizing the last team effort of the Black Serpents. Roger is already preparing himself to leave."

 _Of course he would._ Danielle had no doubt that Roger was elated by this final adventure of his old group.

"Do not be so bitter," Xavier cautioned. "I'll ensure that Logan is there to balance the scales."

"I thought he had to quell the rioting in town," Danielle pointed out. However, she had to admit that she was pleased to hear of him being at this gathering, even if it meant time away from her.

"I think we can spare him for a little longer." Xavier's eyes danced with mischief. "Besides, he needs to come back to the mansion soon."

"What do you mean? Are my children in any immediate danger?"

"No, not exactly. However, after almost two years of being on their own, I would assume that they are too wary of other people and do not trust them. Instead, they formed bonds with the other children they met on the way, hiding and gathering more like them to form their community."

"A… _community_?"

"Yes. It is one that the military does not like, which is why we need to break them from it."

"Why? What's wrong with it? We can bring all of them here."

"Much akin to the hippies of the nineteen sixties, they too believe in free thinking and a lack of authority. Even something as small as that could be seen as rebellion."

"But they're only children! Innocent children!"

"Who will grow up to be adults eventually." Xavier smiled weakly. He too was thinking the same thing Danielle was. "They have no name, but they have power. That much is certain."

"How many are mutants?"

"All of them are, which is why Roger, Hank and I agreed that it would be wise, as you pointed out, to bring them here. That way, we can prove that they are no menace to society."

Danielle snorted. It was a ridiculous notion to begin with. Her sons, who were nearly eleven and seven now, could not possibly be part of some government conspiracy and would be tangled with illegal activities. It did not sound like them. And since there was no adult within their group, their innocent gestures were nothing more than that. On the other hand, they all knew what would happen when the new military government decided that a person of interest is now one of danger.

 _Death._

"When are they leaving?" Danielle was skeptical it would work out according to the plans, but she always hoped. She couldn't jump to conclusions and assume her sons would return to her.

"Tomorrow," Xavier reassured her. "It's a long journey, but we have done a lot of those over the years."

"Does Logan know?" Danielle had a feeling he did not.

"Not yet," Xavier replied impishly. "Roger will ring him into the circle soon enough. Rest assured, Danielle, that this will be resolved and very shortly. You have my word."

~00~

Logan was highly annoyed. Sitting in a vehicle with Roger was not his favorite thing to do and he was more than infuriated that he wasn't able to smoke in the car to dispel that mood. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he huffed out some frustrated air as they drove south to Arizona. In addition, New York City traffic was keeping them back, all the more reason for him to throw his temper tantrum.

"Be still, my beating heartache." Roger noticed the frustration from the driver's seat. "We'll be there when we get there."

"When will that be?" Logan was impatient to get back home. He only visited his son briefly. Although he felt no real connection towards the baby that was identical to him in every way, he still felt antsy to be there with his family.

 _It is not fair to Danielle._

"It'll be whatever time I say it will," Roger snapped. He was in no mood for childish questions. "Now, we've got twenty kids we need to pick up and all of them before those shiny guns get to them first. Arizona is a long way and it's crowded with people wanting to escape the bad people in high places. We need to keep our heads above water."

"No easy feat."

"You're telling me, part of the survivors. No, Charles tells you who, what, when, where why and because yet?"

"That is as mysterious to me as your motives are."

"I'll enlighten you then. Magneto, in his infinite wisdom, decided to keep on the trail of two children who belong to a certain woman you love. He found them, but before he could grab them, he was captured. Apparently, he was supposed to play the game where he's on trial for his life and he decided not to. His lawyer is working on getting him out, although me thinks he's on his way."

"You mean, the one appointed to him?"

"The one and the same. Now, it's our turn to be invisible. The smaller the numbers we've got, the less likely they'll catch us."

Logan knew what Roger was talking about. Even though clemency was effortlessly given after a long battle for it (and waiting for it to come), trust did not come with freedom. Because the government had an idea of who they were and what they did, covert activities had to cease. Even using the basement was taboo, although they had to leave some parts of it open for space purposes and to be a little petulant. However, when it came down to running off to save the world as the X-Men, the less people who went out, the less likely they would suspect them of anything.

It was unproblematic for Roger to disguise who he was and manipulate the system. He had been used in several operations, missions and overseas assignments since he was released from prison in 1962. Everybody wanted him on their side and yet, nobody confided him enough to retain him. He was his own force, which is why he kept for so long with the mansion and the school. He was anonymous, had freer movements and even had better control over his own men this way. Nobody would be able to trace him.

Finally, Logan nodded steadily. "Have another vehicle to carry eighteen more kids?"

"On its way," Roger confirmed. By then, the conversation fell flat as cars ahead of them moved and they were on their way.

After almost fifty hours in the car with fewer stops than previous trips, a lot of roadwork to contend with and being stopped by law enforcement agencies who did not like them, they managed to get to Arizona. Another three hours and they were soon at the gates of their destination, Prescott National Forest. It wasn't typically woods like they saw in New York, but it was arid enough that the two were wise to close their windows and crank up the car AC as their car rolled to the gates.

Roger turned off the engine and exited the vehicle when told to, getting out of the car to speak with the guards. From what Logan could see, he had a hard time persuading the people at the entranceway that they needed to come in. Apparently, the place was closed due to clean-outs and the local governor ordered that nobody was to come in and anybody who comes out be investigated and held until guiltlessness was proven. This included them.

The master spy reentered and started the car up again. He backed it up and drove away, veering to the right as if they were leaving the park. Then, after a few miles and with nobody perusing them, he navigated the car to a deserted location and to a dirt road. Logan winced as they bounced and the exhaust hit a few rocks, smoke rising from the rear. After a few miles, Roger stopped, pocketing the keys as the radiator protested with steam and a light that dimmed that the engine was overheated.

"What now?" Logan asked, getting out as Roger did and popped the hood up.

"Hopefully, this puppy won't die on us," Roger said. He kicked the tire in frustration and dropping the hood, cursing. "I didn't expect the fucking thing to croak. However, good news is that we're out of sight and mind. Let's roll."

Logan groaned. Pulling out his gear from the back seat, he locked up his side and followed Roger down the pathway, abused by hot sand and trees that did not like the heat and yellowed by the harsh southwestern winter. Eventually, their trail transformed into actually mud and cooling shade, inclining uphill into the park itself. By the time they passed the security below them, they were halfway to their destination.

By noon, they came to a clearing that was obviously used as a campsite. Although most of the evidence of habitation had been cleaned up and very well, Logan smelled recent activity. Footsteps led in several different directions though, which allowed the pair to stop and think of which way the children might have gone to. They decided after a brief lunch to check out all of them.

Five sets of footprints went to dead ends, but had looped to the next set, making another circle. Finally, Loan and Roger narrowed it down to two obvious paths, one heading east and the other north. The master spy chose the former, motioning Logan to his side for a conference.

"Let's split up," Roger suggested, taking out a walkie-talkie out of his backpack and handing it over. "Update as quickly as you can."

Logan shook his head in agreement. When they departed, he headed northbound. Using all of his senses, he carefully walked alongside the imprints left behind. When they led him to a large tree that held a house in the top branches, he had to laugh. It seemed too apparent and too simple that he should find something like this. It was very quiet for a place that was supposed to be fun though and that was alarming.

Testing the ladder for sturdiness and finding it strong, Logan cautiously made his way up, swinging onto the thick branches and crawling into the structure at the top. He entered silently, noting immediately that nobody was here…and that they had not been in a few weeks. This was either a trap or a decoy. He was leaning towards the latter, believing that no child was capable of taking on a fully-grown adult and would not have the guts to.

A minute later, standing incredulously amidst the empty room, the walkie-talkie beeped. Logan picked it up. "Yeah?"

"Logan, I think you should come down my way," Roger ordered, his voice cracking with static.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because I found them…well, I should say they found _me_."


	65. Rejection's Sting

Logan raced down the ladder and rushed through the pathway, not caring if he stepped on the evidence of young human existence. When he reached the original clearing, he sniffed out Roger's trail and tracked it, stopping only when he heard a chorus of candid voices clamoring for attention. In another clearing stood about twenty children (all of them no older than twelve) dancing around Roger…and a seated Magneto.

 _Dammit!_

It was shocking to see the older man. Last Logan knew, Magneto had been captured and accused of treason and terrorism after the initial charges had been dropped. Right now, he was an honored guest who was amused at the kids making Roger embarrassed and awkward. When Magneto finally noticed Logan though, he nodded in turn, waving his hand to immobile him. He then whistled, putting a stop to their taunting of Roger, and pointed to Logan.

"It appears that you all have another visitor," Magneto announced in a grandiose way.

An argument immediately ensued about why Logan was there, giving Roger a chance to sneak away to stand with the immobilized mutant. All of them resented Magneto being there in the first place and taking charge. It was apparent that he had just arrived, maybe a day or two before Logan and Roger had, and that he was trying to take control of the situation before someone else did. What he was playing at, Logan did not know, but he was pretty tired of being stationary every time he saw the metal-controlling mutant. He growled with his mouth was allowed to work.

"Erik, we need to get out of here before the authorities find us," Roger reminded him, raising his voice above the din of the children. "I don't think we have much time before they realize I took a shortcut."

"How can you carry so much with so little?" Magneto asked pompously. "Have some men willing to deal with the brats?"

Roger grew huffy, insulted. "Of course I do, you asinine old man! Why would I come here and have room for four or five in the back seat of my car when there's obviously more?"

"Tut, tut. I thought we learned to control our temper years ago. Cuba should have taught you a lesson."

"And I would have thought we learned years ago that we're not the leaders of this world. Can it for now, Erik. Round up your little minions and let's get going. I just need two kids to personally come with me and Logan. For all I care, you can join us."

"Ahh, yes, the Ellis children. I assume nobody has told them the good news?"

"What…good news?"

Magneto's vicious smile indicated that he was victorious over one thing at least and that he had more information than the master spy himself. "Well, well, well, Roger, I am impressed and quite surprised. I intend to keep a promise, I manage it and now you have no idea what I mean. Very well. Michael, Riley, come forth. I believe they can be told in person and go along with you to prove it."

In the middle of the verbal bickering, two figures rustled and then obeyed the command. Two boys, nearly eleven and seven respectively, shyly came forward and stood before Logan and Roger. There was no doubt that they were Danielle's children. Although small features betrayed them as Ellis' offspring, their reddish hair and hazel eyes copied their mother's. Although tall for their ages (perhaps from Ellis, who was slightly over six feet tall), they felt diminished compared to the pair that sought to bring them back to Salem Center.

The elder one stepped towards them bravely, waving to those behind him to quiet down. "Logan?" Michael was unsure of who he was meeting.

Roger nodded because Logan could not, kneeling before Michael. "You ready to go home with us?"

Michael looked around his surroundings, his company and brother most of all, unsure of the decision. "I…I don't know."

"You will need to," Magneto prompted. "They're after all of us. We'll be killed soon if we don't hurry. You need to consider the safety of your people."

"He's right," Roger admitted once more, although it hurt him to say it. He never liked Magneto and today's events were not changing his mind. "The present people in charge do not like groups like yours. They have this area surrounded."

Michael was not sure who to trust. He whistled at his friends to shut up (eventually, they listened). All of them did not seem as fearless as he was concerning the adults though and that was an issue. Although this indicated that he was the leader (most likely because he was the oldest) and the most thoughtful to their welfare, it also meant that they might not heed their command. Indeed, he was contemplating their situation and working out ways for them to listen, his forehead in the same wrinkled state as his mother when she was doing the same. Then, his glance went from Roger to Magneto and then to Logan.

Sighing, Magneto released Logan. Playtime was over for the former, but he was not the one to squander a chance at some fun. He was glad that his mission was over. Indeed, Xavier had to put his fingers in there somewhere and send people out because he had been captured and jailed. However, he was appreciative of the help, even if it was Roger and Logan, because twenty children was too much for him.

On the other hand, the hatred remained between the survivors. The feelings were always mutual between him and Roger though, even as old friends (Logan was always another story). For over forty years, the two had been at each other's throats. Even now, Roger was shooting him a dirty look and wishing him vanquished.

 _Ahh, some things never change. My dear Roger, how can I change your mind?_

"We'll come," Michael decided, "although I don't know what kind of life we'll have. My mother is dead."

Logan had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming out that it had all been a lie. To think that Danielle was dead for two years was a horrible concept. He could not blame Michael though. If there was nothing left in a place where there was good memories, why bother going back to relive those days? He had to change his attitude though and approach it as maybe Xavier would. It would for new thing for Logan. Nevertheless, he had to inform the eldest of the truth.

"I can reassure you that your mother is still with us," Logan began. Beside him, Roger cleared his throat drastically. "When I left her at least, she was still breathing."

"She is not," Riley chimed in, tears running down his face. "I saw her. She's _dead_!"

"She isn't," Roger added, his tone agitated and impatient. He wanted to smack Riley, but stilled his hand. "We've got no reason to lie to you."

"I can verify that too." Magneto decided to jump back into the conversation, erect from his wooden seat. Deciding to stand with Roger and Logan he looked down at the two Ellis children. "I promised her myself that I would find you. She is alive."

Logan did not want to mention yet that they had a baby brother and that his picture was in his back pocket, burning a hole and reminding him of tasks that needed doing (one of them being naming him). It was too much for Michael and Riley to handle hearing that Danielle was not dead. They were incredulous already, their hard faces (and in Riley's case, tearless) betraying relief and happiness, but they were still in disbelief. It was best to get them going before security found them and truly put them away for good.

A gunshot in the distance reinforced the idea. "Time to hit the road then," Roger declared. "Let's go!"

~00~

It had been so many years since Matthew decided to come downstairs. He had avoided it like the plague, choosing to stick to cleaning with Ororo or running around the mansion outside, despite the wet and windy weather March brought. It had been soothing after spent chasing his demons, but that was another story for another day. Right now, with so much energy pent up inside of him and his agitated mind swinging everywhere, Xavier suggested that he utilize the space before lunch. Hank was amendable to the schedule change as well, keeping his distance as Matthew plowed his way down the familiar stairwell and hallways. He would flip the switches to start the simulations from the outside.

It was effortless to find his way to the Danger Room. Matthew opened it with the security code and entered, the door whooshing closed behind him. The dark paneled room was full of dust, most of it raining down on him as soon as his entranceway left him stuck in an echoing chamber alone. Once he cleared his eyes and face from the thick material, he waited for the program to begin. Hank was mumbling in the hallway, keying in his own passwords. Finally, after a few minutes, the dark room changed into a ruined city, its buildings crumbled into disintegrating blocks and small fires burning every few feet.

Immediately, Matthew felt alive. Flexing his stiff muscles, he waited for the challenge, his legs and arms begging to be used. It did not take long to oblige them. A shadow cranked and then stumbled out of the darkness of the city setting, its robotic eyes quickly spotting him. Without warning, its arms rose up, aiming an inside weapon at him, and fired.

Suddenly, a whirl threw him off balance. Matthew did not know what happened and struggled in vain to be freed. The next thing he knew, he was liberated, panting and then catching his breath as his back and head smacked into a stone wall around the corner. When he turned, he saw Ororo next to him. Her eyes were white and her hands raw with power.

"You mind?" Matthew asked. He was quite annoyed.

"Not when it involves _that_." Ororo's head pointed to the robot, now searching for them and coming closer. "I thought we agreed to work together as a team?"

"Yeah, when we mutually concede to it. I came here alone."

"So did I. Hank let me in."

"And you found me? Didn't expect me?"

"Well, yes. On the other hand, if I see a Sentinel about to kill you, would you still blame me for wanting to keep you out of harm's way?"

Matthew's eyes twinkled with mischief, finding Ororo's subtle flirting very endearing, even if he still felt cheated of his action. "Well, I _could_ , but I think working with you might be better."

This made Ororo smile, a genuine one that Matthew had not seen in years, not since they were captured by Ellis. Holding her hand, the pair decided to run out, separating when the robotic figure danced its usual steps. Within minutes, the two managed to claim victory over it. Immediately afterward, another two came out and were vanquished. Then, the numbers doubled and the challenge became harder and harder. When thirty-two Sentinels had been sent to the rubbish bin, the two had enough and begged not have sixty-four come out. Hank heard this and shut down the program.

Tired, Ororo and Matthew left, taking a quick break as they seated themselves on a bench down the hallway. They could not speak to each other. What words could they have said after all of this time, when they themselves had been sparring their relationship, refusing to acknowledge that there might something out of nothing? What could the wisdom of their past years whisper to them, urging them to lean forward and listen?

They were questions they always asked internally, rationalizing the recent times as an excuse not to be with each other and to speak of their feelings. Still, one of them had to say something. Ororo felt it had to be her. Matthew was stubborn and would rather drown, especially after he turned into an animal that almost could not be reached and tamed.

"That was a fair fight," she started, unsure of how else to.

"Huh?" Matthew was hardly paying attention and was as clueless as his cousins, flexing his limbs to get the ache out of them. "Yeah, I guess it was. I haven't had something fun in a while. The Professor hadn't wanted me out because…"

"Because why?" Ororo wanted to know. She did not like Matthew trailing his sentences and bringing doubt over like a raincloud. It meant he was reining himself in and was hooked inside of him, not to her.

"Because he was afraid that I would kill someone. It was refreshing to get that out of my system."

"I'm sure."

"Thank you, Storm. I think I wouldn't have been able to handle the simulation without you."

Ororo was touched, daring herself to reach over and take Matthew's hand gently. He did not move, perhaps taking comfort from the action, and sat quietly. As some children passed them on their way to see Danielle (the concept of a newborn baby appealing to them), Ororo squeezed. Matthew returned the gesture, his fingers wrapping around hers.

"You're welcome," Ororo finally replied, hiding their secret in-between her leg and his. She wanted to change the topic suddenly, her eyes watching the lines forming to the medical bay. "Want to visit your cousin?"

"And deal with Jay? No thanks." Matthew's lips tightened into a thin line and his hand detached itself from Ororo's. "My cousins are not ready to deal with me. I cannot either. I look at Danielle, so happy and content, and Jay, with his family so close to him, and I want to strangle them."

Ororo was alarmed. "Why?"

"They have yet to overcome their obstacles and yet they have the tools to," Matthew complained bitterly. "I have nothing. My mother and sisters are dead."

"You have more family and friends," Ororo reminded him. She did not want to mention herself yet, feeling it would ruin the mood. "You have people to reach out to."

"Who will never understand." Matthew stood up. "I'm going back in. Can you please tell Hank that I'm ready?"

The comment stung. Ororo had never known rejection that badly before. In her early childhood, she remembered the hot sands and sun of Cairo, where she was found nothing except ways to survive. She recalled the days of silent submission and following a being that believed himself to be a god amongst the world. That, in many ways, was rejection – of who she was, her morals and her life's pathway. When she decided to stay in Salem Center and to grow with Scott and Jean, it had been a relief, especially meeting people just like her. Now, as the adult, she was feeling utterly abandoned by the one person she trusted and needed in her life.

Jean would have told her to grow up and to make her voice heard, something she had uttered since they were teenagers. Ororo was not backing away from telling Matthew how she felt though. It was more like she was refraining from making their wounds any larger and rubbing salt into them. It did not do for one of them to remind the other of what they had and what they had lost being apart.

"Sure," Ororo only said with a smile, to hide her tears. "Anything I can do to help."

Matthew did not glance back at Ororo. Instead, he disappeared back into the Danger Room. She was about to inform Hank to turn back on the system, but decided to wait a few minutes, brooding over their conversation. She felt like everything went wrong, even if she meant well and nothing was meant to offend, and that she blew her big chance. When Kitty approached her on her walk upstairs, following her to find Hank, Ororo did not expect her shadow to all the way to the living room and back to her room.

Kitty had been a constant companion to Ororo. Ever since they met on that rescue mission, they had been almost inseparable, apart only when they had been captured and held as political prisoners and upon their trials. Of course, they had been released and the relationship continued, more like sisters than friends. However, it was this warmth that held them together, almost as solid as Ororo was to Jean.

Ororo allowed Kitty in, believing there was no reason why she could not enter. In the silence that ensued though, the two sat down on the bed and held each other as close sisters did, taking ease when there was none. She realized too that Kitty was upset, more than she was, and it showed through the way her hands kept passing through Ororo's before becoming solid. She did not want to know. In her misery and the failure to get through to Matthew, there was no way Ororo could bring calm to another storm.

"So, what are we going to do now?" Kitty did not want to direct any attention towards their problems, instead choosing to bring back the reminder that they had work to complete. They had five months left before their anticipated school opening and there was no time for pity parties.

Ororo sighed. "We have the option of finishing up the classrooms or taking the graffiti off of the outside walls. Pick your poison."

Kitty grinned through her pain, attempting to divert her mind elsewhere. "What are we waiting for then? Let's go outside."


	66. Demons on a Leash

Hank had watched Matthew from afar, choosing the hardest tasks and ones that he knew Matthew would enjoy. However, the Mitchell cousin had hardly slowed down and was still restless. After he went back for a second mockup and without Ororo, he had worked more than he ever had, faster and stronger than before, and that frightened Hank to the core. Matthew had been dangerous when he was younger, protesting a horrible situation and landing in prison many times because of it. Now, he was an angrier adult and with more gusto in his powers.

When Hank decided to end the session, he waited until Matthew exited the Danger Room. At first, he did not notice Hank, but when a shadow covered his face, immediately he was in a defensive stance. Hank backed away quickly, choosing not to instigate any further, and waited until Matthew was calmed before speaking.

Matthew wiped some sweat off of his face with a spare cloth. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Hank admitted. "I just thought we'd take a walk outside."

"It's pretty cold out there," Matthew pointed out. He did not want to take a chance at catching the flu. It was bad enough that Salem Center was chock-full of miserable people with it.

"So? I'm sure we'll be fine."

"How far away are we from the town anyway?"

"There's enough distance between us if you're worried about the germs. Come on."

Matthew did not sense anything wrong with joining Hank and walked by his side, up the stairs and straight out the front door. After all, the blue mutant was hardly one to bring on a fight, although he was close to bringing a fist to his face. However, from what Matthew analyzed of the situation, Hank only wanted to talk and be a nuisance. He had no time for these types of games and only consented to get him off of his case.

 _Curiosity usually kills the cat. Satisfaction brought it back. Damn you, Hank. Damn you and your logical reasoning._

The harsh cold bit through their clothing. For Matthew, it was agonizing. Because perspiration still caked his body, he felt involuntary shivers run up and down his body. He cursed Hank under his breath, thinking it stupid that he had to come outdoors at a time like this and he assenting to the idea. New York was notorious for its fickle March weather. With contagion in the air, it was only a matter of time before someone got sick.

"What a beautiful day," Hank observed inanely. He thought it an oxymoron, but that was beside the point.

Clouds started gathering slowly and the wind picked up. Matthew thought that maybe Ororo was playing with her powers and flexing them freely. He was proven wrong when he and Hank passed her and Kitty Pryde. The pair had been easing off their tension by splashing water at each other and were laughing merrily. They were otherwise scrubbing the obscene pictures and words off of the stonework as they joked about turning into ice statues and taunting Bobby in an upstairs window. It was like their previous encounter did not happen and that she was moving on. That hurt Matthew.

When they rounded the corner and were out of earshot, Hank continued. "Matthew, it hasn't been easy for anyone. The last thirty years have tested all of us. You cannot say that everyone has not experienced turmoil of some kind because each stage of our development has begun and ended with a new phase of human evolution, whether it is political, social or even genetic. You cannot hide forever behind a mask. Someday, it will fall off and you won't be able to put it back on."

Matthew was quiet, pondering these words. "Maybe this isn't a mask I am holding up."

"Oh, it is, no matter what you name it," Hank replied cheerfully, waving a greeting at Alex and Lorna as they passed by. The two had been jogging, their mutual activity since returning. "You don't realize that you're hiding. For you, this is something that progressed out of the blue – pardon my pun – and you justify it by believing that nobody understands the struggle. We all do, Matthew, some of us more so than you will. You are not a monster. You only have demons inside of you that cannot be contained."

"I see no difference in what you are saying."

"Philosophically speaking, there are not one and the same. What I mean is, stereotypical monsters remain the way they are – destructive, evil and unfeeling. Demons are spirits that crawl inside and attempt to control you. It's up to you to fight and take back your life before you transform into an uncontrollable being."

"You're viewing this as a scientific experiment, Hank. Care to put that in layman's terms?"

"That's the best description I have. What you make of it is up to you."

By then, they have made a full circuit around the mansion. Alex and Lorna passed them several more times, the two teasing each other about racing. Ahead, there stood Kitty and Ororo. The former decided that she had enough of the cold and started to head back inside. The latter called out that she was staying out to finish, even though she was freezing. Matthew stopped with Hank, watching in fascination the way she dipped a sponge into the icing water and scrubbed away years of slurs that dripped into colorful puddles in the dead grass.

Suddenly, Matthew felt himself transformed back into a young teenager. He was always googling girls that he could never have, Jubilee especially, but it was Ororo that caught his eye. She was different (a usable tool before she enrolled in the school, but she overcame that) and she knew it. The beautiful white hair that grew out of the Mohawk, the dark eyes that one could get lost in, the graceful and confident way she walked and talked…it hid all of her insecurities and weaknesses. She was a force unto herself, a strong one at that, and one that even Matthew did not want to take on.

All of those years wasted on protesting nagged at Matthew. He lost count of how many times Ellis' military or his special police force went after him. The sting of pepper spray burned him, the punches to his face feeling like bruises and swollen welts…it all came back to him. All of that and then to have it spent jailed either in a cell or inside of him, clawing to be freed.

Matthew immediately passed Ororo. Hank darted to catch up, pretending that all was still well. When Alex and Lorna whirled past them, teasing the pair about being so slow and too old to exercise, Hank yelled back something about pacing and respecting those who were contemplating the mysteries of life. Although he and Alex were about the same age, it still galled Hank to think that he had known this man for so long and that they had survived so much.

"I'm gonna need some space," Matthew admitted to Hank as they rounded another corner, "especially when it concerns _her_. I hope she understands."

"If I know Storm, she would wait forever," Hank predicted. "She isn't a person who denied empathy to another. She would makes sure you reach out to her in your own way and in your own time…and cherish you all the same."

Matthew did not want to believe that, but he had to hold onto something. It wasn't stupid wishes made upon stars. It was the simple urge to feel alive again, to be the person he used to be…and to be with the woman he loved. He only trusted Ororo deserved him just the same.

~00~

It was an exhausting day. Finally, everything had been cleaned up and was ready for the scrutiny. While the outside could have used a little TLC and reminded them of their past lives, it didn't count towards maintaining a safe environment for children and teenagers, a lot of whom had already settled into their respective dorm rooms and were chatting excitedly about the new school year in five months' time. The Professor was pleased as well and that was what mattered the most.

After such a day, Jean curled into bed with Scott, wrapping her arms around him from behind. He was already sleeping, worn down by fifteen kids, aged between eight and sixteen, running circles around him and most of them instigators to begin with. Jean noticed how hard he tried to keep them all in line, using the same skills he possessed as a leader to keep them controlled. Unfortunately, that was not quite successful since his parenting came out full-force. He was out of practice handling ones that were not his and teenagers were never a strong point. Jean was sure that will change shortly, although she was sure she would be the strong one.

She was able to close her eyes for sleep when she sensed a strong presence outside, walking downstairs. Jean wasn't one to investigate anything if it were something as trivial as someone not sleeping (it was always common as far as she knew), but feeling someone who was not normally bunking at the mansion was stranger.

 _Jay._

Immediately, Jean rose, ensuring that Scott was not disturbed, and exited her room. She followed Jay downstairs to the kitchen, where she found him sneaking a six-pack out from behind a very obscure cabinet corner and settling it on the counter (all the while cursing Logan for keeping adult items within a child's reach). He noticed her, deciding to seat himself on a stool at the island and offering her a can. Jean declined, choosing to take the opposite seat facing him.

"What brings you here?" she asked him.

"Peace of mind," Jay replied, gulping his drink down. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with his bare wrist. "No, it's not just that. Fiona, Jax and I are staying here while the farmhouse is being rebuilt and our lease has in limbo. That is up and nobody can decide if it's wise to renew it. The Professor has been kind enough to allow us to stay."

"I didn't notice you coming in."

"We slipped in a few hours ago. I wanted to surprise my sister and the new brat. The way she's adapting and popping children out, I think we'll have quite the family. Even Logan fits in the brood somehow."

"Fiona doing ok?"

"Of course she is! The Professor offered her the position of admissions administrator and she accepted. She's more worried about Jax though. He hasn't quite finished his education, but he has expressed an interest in teaching. I'll take that."

"How is that coming along?"

Jay's features darkened. He took another can of beer and opened it. "Well, I can't really say. It's been great to have him home with us in our old age, but at the same time, it's a little…well, _difficult_. He's adjusting to not being on his own and having parents who worry about him. He's reckless, Jean. He's upset over his past and how he was treated and he cannot understand that we want to protect him and help him. He cannot get past that."

"Have you told him this?"

"Not in so many words, but we have informed him of how concerned we are."

"Drinking?"

"Yes. A drunk can smell out another."

"Like father, like son."

"You aren't helping by poking fun at my own habits. You know that, right?"

"What do you need me to do?" Jean's forehead wrinkled in thought. She didn't expect Jay to be so pessimistic this time of night. "I can't make your son quit drinking."

"No," he conceded quietly. "Neither can I. I guess what I need is an ear."

"You have your sister for that," Jean pointed out. "You can even communicate easier than I can with you."

"Not if she's busy with two children," Jay countered. "If Logan and Roger come back with my older nephews, then she has four boys total. She'll be too absentminded figuring out which diaper goes where and who needs to be fed. She won't have time for us."

Jean let out an uncharacteristic giggle. "You're right. Having more than one child changes everything."

"And you only have two."

"Who instigate and act like there's more. I swear, I bore six children and not two the way Cable and Rachel run circles."

Jay started laughing, beer seeping out of his nose like a fountain. "What did you expect from kids who were told to stay silent? For them to keep following the rules?"

"No. However, the problem isn't them. It's your son."

"What do you suggest?"

"Curbing your own habits and make an example would be a good start."

"I can't quit. I'm in it for the long run. Besides, I was taught to never stop when I was ahead."

"Well, then, at least _show_ that you're not diving into the bottom of a bottle…or a can, in this case. Hide it like you are now."

"And have my wife only know?"

"If Fiona must, then so be it. You need to put Jax on a leash. If he's going to teach, he needs to learn control. He's a mutant too, Jay. You cannot keep him a child forever."

Finally, in what seemed like hours, Jay sighed. "You're right, Jean. You're right."

She nodded. "We all need to move forward. It seems some of us can and others cannot. It may take years before we're back to where things used to be. However, nothing will ever be the same. We all have gone through an experience, each different than the last, that will forever change us."

The elder Mitchell agreed. When he finished the second helping of beer, he sighed again. The remainder of the pack went back into its secret spot. Jay then went into his usual gloomy mood, head in his hands as he worked through what had been conversed about. Jean took that a signal to go back to bed. Kissing him on his greying head, she left the kitchen, padding softly upstairs and back to her room. Scott had hardly missed her anyway, muttering something in his sleep about his brother and Alaska.

 _I am glad those days are over._

Jean snuggled behind Scott. As her arms went around him in an amorous embrace, he immediately woke up. He struggled to find his ruby glasses, putting them on and rolling over to face Jean. He was happy to find her there. His previous dreams involved her disappearing and arguing with Alex about finding her. Insecurities usually died hard with him and Jean was no exception to the rule.

"You fly away or something?" he inquired, smiling as he did. It always lit up the room in Jean's opinion. She only wished those would see it someday.

"If I told you, would you care?" Jean returned the passionate gesture, moving her hands down Scott's back in anticipation.

"Not really."

"Don't ask then. I can kiss that secret away."

Laughing hysterically, Jean felt herself being lifted and tossed to the other side of the bed. Scott undressed himself and soon was tugging on her clothes. It seemed there was too much on and the heat in the room proved it. Feeling the moment, she leaned forward for the wanted kiss…and received more than she ever estimated.


	67. Thank You, Thank You, Thank You!

The days remained dark and dreary and mostly the same save for their federal visitor. In the middle of the month, a government inspector showed up and checked on the mansion. While he did not approve of anybody living there other than the adult teachers, he did allow not only for the future students to remain, but that the school could reopen its doors at the end of August. In addition, he decided to broadcast the decision publically to ensure not just their safety, but also that the regime sanctioned its standing and that it will not tolerate discrimination or obscene complaints anymore.

It was a huge victory. That night, everyone celebrated with a delicious dinner and loud inane chatting. Although some people had been missing (namely Roger and Logan), others talked of how their efforts had paid off. Five more months and they would be able to function as a school again, an exciting new chapter for those who yearned for a return to the familiar. It was a large step forward. It required acceptance and understanding, but also appreciation. Many who had been in the fight before had not reached this point, a thought that many pondered on. They could not take on survivors' guilt now that they had the chance to break free of it.

Towards the end of the meal, Danielle and her newborn son appeared. Mae guided her to a chair near the doorway of the dining room and assisted her in getting a plate and loading it with food. The baby was slung in a wrap against Danielle's chest, sleeping for now. Ororo noticed the dark hair peeking out of the blue fabric and smiled, offering a comb out of her pocket. All she could remember was Logan when she first met him as a teenager, his own locks askew in a menacing sort of way, and the new baby was a carbon copy of it.

Danielle shook her head. "No, no. If he's anything like Logan, he won't like it."

"If he's anything like Logan, we're _all_ not going to like it," Ororo observed with a laugh.

On the other side of the table, Jean had to sniffle a giggle, attempting to keep professional and neutral. Scott turned to see what was commotion was about and appeared genuinely happy to see Danielle. He flashed her the infamous Summers' grin, friendly and warm. Danielle was surprised to see it, returning it in order to keep a sense of comradery in the room. After all they had been through, it was best to leave the fighting for a later time. Scott offered the olive branch to her. It was best to uphold the peace.

Done with eating, Jay dragged a chair over to Danielle and positioned himself next to her. He offered to take the baby from his sister, listening to her protests until he shushed them to a light slap to her hand. Jay then wiggled the bundle out of the wrap and cooed over him, trying to smooth over the imperfections that the birth created. He sighed, shaking his head as the sleeping form stirred and started whimpering.

"See what you've done?" Danielle joked. "I was hoping for ten minutes of peace."

When Mae scooped some more food on her plate, Jay let out a snort, cradling the baby and rocking him. "Aww, don't worry about it, little sister. This isn't my first baby to bounce and it most certainly won't be the last."

"Are you expecting more children?"

"Well, we _all_ are getting older. I wouldn't mind grandchildren maybe ten years from now."

"Aren't we getting ahead of ourselves here?"

"I don't want Jax to be parenting in his late teens and early twenties like we did. It's something I'd rather not have him ensure. It was harder for us and for Mom as well. The cycle needs to end."

The mention of Shannon Mitchell made Danielle gulp. Her heart clenched harshly, remembering the woman that hardly cared for her and did not make an effort to be a mother. She had taken clues from Shannon from the time Michael was born, piecing together how to be one, and still was figuring it out. With Michael and Riley, she had used all of her willpower to protect them and to relate to them on their level. She recalled losing her temper a few times with Michael especially. She had patience, but it was for a different purpose. She never learned it with children.

 _As an assassin though…_

Danielle waved her hand in dismissal. "Have you visited her?"

"Last week," Jay confirmed. "As requested by Leon Ellis, nobody disturbed her final resting place. It was a kindness."

"I would have thought otherwise."

"How so?"

"He's ruthless and abusive, Jay. You know this! He never liked our parents. Michael and Riley were not part of his perfect picture. I failed him in every way as a wife, even though I tried so hard to fit into his mold. He especially resented me for not telling him about Riley."

"I rather pity him and our father."

Danielle was floored by the statement, unable to speak. Jay had more memories of Chameleon than Danielle did and had dealt with him when he came home from Vietnam. He should have had more reason to hate the man and to resent what he had done. Indirectly, Chameleon almost brought upon their own ruin and sought to reverse it in his own way and without a reason why. Disappeared is the best position he needed to be. _Pitied_? Danielle could not fathom it.

"Why?" she pat out viciously. Several pairs of eyes turned to her and Jay in an embarrassed and awkward silence.

Jay motioned them back to their meal and conversations. When they obeyed his wish, he continued. "I would _think_ it better that we talked elsewhere about it," he suggested quietly. "However, I am willing to let you know that the two and Teller…well, they tried the best they could and did not see the big picture of the future they changed. This country was not ready and blindly followed anyway. There's pity in there, Danielle, a feeling that I cannot help but keep inside of me."

"I would have thought you were the revenge kind of guy."

"I was until years of solitary confinement changed me. I see you've done the same, little sister. Five years as a wife to a dictator and then reviled as a witch when loving another man? And then another five years on the run with your husband, when all the world wanted you dead? That must be pretty heavy. I wouldn't want that weight on my shoulders."

"It was…not quite a pleasant time."

"I'm sure. Mine wasn't either. However, the people who hurt us are dead or gone and they cannot touch us anymore. Forgive them, Danielle. It's easier on Teller because he sought to redeem himself and he's proven his worth in salt. Our father might not come back. He might, it's him."

"Let's hope not."

Jay found it odd that Danielle was still bitter over Chameleon. It wasn't about Ellis, that much was certain. He tried getting through her defenses to see a reason and felt himself slam into a brick wall. He did not want to work on it with so many people watching and being on alert, so he speculated. His sister had been angry with Chameleon since…when? A toddler who was betrayed by the man who treated her like a princess? The child who grew up without parents and had a brother and cousins who hardly cared? The pre-teen that tailed after a man several years older than her? The teenager who endured abuse and debased herself? The adult who could not figure out heads and tails out of the life she lived?

He hoped that Danielle would find closure. He most certainly knew that everyone in the dining room was trying to in the best way they could. Jay, out of everyone, should have been as rancorous as his sister. He went through slavery, hard labor and even death before he was rescued. He cursed Ellis and his family for ruining his life, his wife and sons and his sister. He even wished with all of his heart that Ellis' wife and children – his own sister and nephews – suffered and died. He would have been granted mercy at least.

Now, with so many things going on and demons clamoring to claim him, Jay had to fight back as much as the next person. He'll always feel the pain. He drank it away often enough. However, he could not find himself hating the people who kidnapped and tortured them. Not now, not ever. That, he felt, was a large leap into the unknown, a concept that he never understood until now and had enveloped inside of him.

 _Forgiveness._

"Why don't we check on the house progress?" Jay recommended instead. "Tomorrow night, I've got a shift with Teller and Snake Eyes. Doesn't help I've got a bunch more kids to watch on the way out the door."

"Who are a few years younger than I am," Danielle reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah. It keeps them busy and working and leaves them to peruse whatever avenues they want to explore. A lot of them want to teach here. This is the only real home they've ever had and it heals them to stick with the familiar."

"It is for all of us, Jay. What's your point?"

"Back to the farmhouse. Anyway, that's more of what I am aiming to talk to you about. Fiona and I planning it out so that it resembles the structure that used to stand, but separated by two wings. One is yours and the other ours. The bigger nursery is for your kids."

"How many bedrooms to each side? Kitchen, living room…?"

"It's all planned out, little sister, and it caters to our needs. Don't worry about it."

"Why am I dreading this?"

 _Because you're my sister, that's why._ Jay switched communication methods. _I think we'll have more to celebrate soon though._

Danielle raised an eyebrow, nibbling on her food. _Oh?_

 _You'll see. You need to trust me._

 _You've said that so many times that I have to suspect mischief._

 _Me? Getting you into trouble? No way!_

 _Do you two mind? We're still eating._ Jean interjected, although she was outwardly showing that she was sucked into a discussion with Xavier about how to protect themselves. _You're causing a disturbance._

 _Sorry._ Jay obviously sounded like he wasn't.

 _You are not. I am most certainly controlling my end of the powers though._ Danielle pursed her lips together.

Jean sighed, holding Scott's hand and laughing at whatever Hank had said. Without looking at the siblings, she added her last warning. _You're both throwing out energy with abandonment. Keep your damned emotions to yourself._

"Want to come over anyway?" Jay handed the baby back to Danielle. "I would love for you to see what we've planned."

"You drive," Danielle decided, cradling her youngest back into her arms and forsaking dinner. Mae shot her an evil eye she easily ignored. "I am curious and fascinated. I wanted to see this new home of ours and why you're so eager to show it off."

Jay smiled. "I never thought you'd ask. Oh, and by the way…what _is_ my nephew name?"

~00~

The last time Danielle had stopped in on the property, it was burning to the ground and she had to rush to get her brother out of the flames. Logan had been with her, assisting her in tracking down one of many groups that remained after Ellis was assassinated. Now, the place was a structured mess and any remains of her previous encounter had disappeared. Workers were scattered everywhere and directing one another. The smell of fresh-cut wood permeated the air. Even the fire in the pit added to the chaos, swirling smoke around and destroying any unusable wood.

All in all, there was true advancement made and a solid erection was maturing. Danielle, holding her son and eying Devon race around the house, studied it further. Jay and Fiona had chosen well how to design it, she decided. Both floors had been extended, although the basement remained the same length and width. It also made use of the land they used as a backyard. She deduced that one hundred and ninety acres behind her was enough of a play area for the children and that the two acres immediately around her for show.

"What do you think?" Jay stood behind his sister and grinned. "I thought I put in things you would like to see on the house. You know, make it more like home for you too."

"I…well, I can't say right now." Danielle's stomach fluttered with nervousness and sadness. "It's beautiful, but I miss the house we grew up in."

"Honestly, I do too," Jay said without shame. He moved in when he was slightly older than his youngest nephew and had more memories and sentimental attachment than he'll ever confess to. "However, I'm certain it'll grow on us. The best of the best was left in there. I mean, some of the leftover pieces from the original foundation are being used."

"Really?"

"You bet, little sister. About ninety-six percent of the place was destroyed, but the rest of it was still standing in some form or another. I could not tear it down and keep it as souvenirs or trash it. It was perfectly good material. Why waste?"

"To keep the spirits away."

"What do you mean?"

"To build from the new would mean nothing from our old life would remain. It would start a new phase for us, wipe away what we remember."

"I understand. I am old school though. I believe in remembering where you came from when you get to your final destination."

Danielle grinned. It was very apt for her brother to mention that. Finding nothing else to say, she remained still, watching with Jay the continuing work. She did not hear a truck bouncing into the dirt driveway, but he did. Jay turned around to see the commotion and ran to it, leaving his sister and the baby behind just as Devon rounded a corner. He reached the driver's side and practically laughed to see Logan in there.

"She distracted?" he asked Jay, unbuckling his seatbelt. He hated the thing and his face of disgust reinforced the feeling.

"For the time being," Jay confirmed. He then checked the passenger and back seats. Magneto was surprisingly slumbering in the back with two children and Roger was growling loudly up front.

 _Michael and Riley._

"You gonna move or am I shoving your sorry ass?" Logan did not appear to be pleasant after his long journey. Indeed, their mutual disregard for the other crept up, made worse by how tired each were.

"Leaving, leaving. Geez, what a way to show some love to the man who might as well be your brother-in-law."

"You're damned lucky that I haven't diced you by now."

"Ooohhh, I am so scared."

The banter easily continued. Immediately, Jay felt irritation for the man who poked, prodded and even threatened him over the years. However, it melted away when he saw the boys once more. When they woke up from fright, agitating Magneto in the process, they tried hiding. It was a natural reaction and Jay could not blame them. He allowed them space to realize where they were. After ten minutes, Michael whispered in Riley's ear that it was ok. They calmed down and then looked at the old man outside who was staring in.

Jay moved so Logan could exit, allowing him to gently ease up to Danielle and greet her. He then extended his hand out, first to Magneto and then to his nephews. They took the offer, their legs shaking as they adjusted to life outside of the vehicle. Roger remained inside though, muttering now about their ride and how "fucking overjoyed" he was to be back home. Jay ignored that, stepping to one side once more. Magneto had supposedly promised Danielle that he would return Michael and Riley. He wouldn't take that spotlight away from the Professor's oldest friend.

Indeed, Magneto took each boy and rested a hand on each shoulder, guiding them forward towards their mother without fuss. Danielle had hardly a chance to kiss Logan when she saw the figures coming up from behind her. It was mirage surely, she thought as she did a one-eighty rotation. Her mind raced with all sorts of possibilities, most of them evolving around Magneto playing a prank on her, but she dismissed them all.

It was no joke this time. The man who drew attention to himself acting as a terrorist, who had lost his family and gained acumen into one of the world's largest threats…he finally kept his word. There was no ego, no malice and most certainly no smugness inside of him. Magneto released Michael and Riley, standing back so that their mother could greet them.

Danielle handed the baby to Logan just as he grabbed Devon by the collar to subdue his excitement. While Logan did resent having to care for his only biological child upon his arrival, he did grow elated on the inside to combat the negativity. Their family was complete. All of the children were _home_.

Slowly at first and then rushing into a sprint, Danielle practically threw herself to her knees before her sons. She grabbed them, holding them tightly into her arms, and started sobbing. She was never one to show her emotions, especially her tears and to everyone watching, and could not help but glance at Magneto in appreciation and love, her eyes blurry. He had redeemed himself. He was _free_.

"Thank you," she gushed out thickly, her breath shortening with each passing cry. "My God, they're here. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"


	68. Icebreakers

**August 24, 2009**

The first day was always the hardest, albeit the most anticipated one of all. However, with terrified teachers on hand and about fifty students with varying abilities and masteries in all subject and powers, it was time to make themselves known. They were officially a school again and without the stigma of being labeled as traitors and misfits.

Danielle was assigned the music teacher and without hesitation on the Professor's part too. Although her classes were not until the afternoon, she had free time to brood over what she would teach and how to keep student interest. Xavier had still given her free rein over her curriculum and even that was too broad. Over the last two months, she tried narrowing it down to theory, reading music and the optional chorus and instrument learning. Everyone agreed that it would be best, but it was an experiment itself, just like their classes.

Logan, on the other hand, was given over to security for the time being. He did not relish teaching history and gave the position to Ororo until such a time he felt confident enough to educate a bunch of kids. He wanted to ensure that nobody (from government workers, annoying vandals and even curious townspeople) would bother them in the initial school year. He took up his old position and tasks, rising early every morning and stalking the grounds. He still found a few teenagers that wanted to cause trouble and promptly used Roger's methods of disposal, but nothing more.

No longer were the days of spies and espionage standing. Now, it was childish pranks and hoodlums that ruled Salem Center. While boring, Logan found it relaxing. He no longer needed to watch out for Magneto's Brotherhood since it was disbanded and possibly never to rise again. He did not need to scout what Ellis was doing or track down Teller and Chameleon. The nightmare was truly over.

It had been a difficult few months before this day arrived though. Between four boys aged between five months and thirteen years old, it had been frantic keeping track of their whereabouts. Beforehand, it was up to everyone to keep an eye out for another's children. They all had a responsibility for the minors, but the ultimate decisions would be for the parents. Today, there had been too much going on that nobody was able to help them coral the boys. She and Logan were exhausted and pulling their hair out every night, him especially. Logan had no patience for children and often snarled to make his point clear to get them to stop their shenanigans.

 _It serves me right for loving too much._

Their youngest son, promptly christened Daken after so much speculation (a nickname and one that Danielle despised), sat with her in the music room on that fateful day. While he gurgled in his bouncy chair, giggling over the vibrations it made and the toys above his head, he struggled to break free. His head balanced perfectly, eying Danielle with dark eyes that reminded her so much of Logan. Even with his hair sticking up the way it was and the faces he made to betray his emotions, he was the miniature version of his father.

At lunchtime, just after the bell rang, Logan entered with Devon, Michael and Riley. All three of them were in enrolled in the school and quite enjoying themselves by the looks of it. However, they seem to have other plans in mind. Devon, ever dramatic as the oldest (and the worst example), dragged himself to a desk and complained about homework. Michael copied him, pretending to be bored with the assignments given to him although he was excited about it on the inside. Riley was outwardly joyful, skipping to a seat and singing praises of all of his teachers.

Logan was mentally exhausted though. He dragged himself over to Danielle's desk, sitting on it and glaring at her with what seemed to be desperation. He showed her that he was not used to catering to kids. His eyes told her about the crying, screaming and carrying-on the three did. His hand was still red from disciplining them, twitching every so often. Danielle had no doubt that he was trying to keep them in line. His temper would soon get the best of him if they didn't stop though.

"How long is it until your class?" he asked her.

"In an hour," Danielle confirmed. "If I know you, you had some crazy scheme to leave the kids behind, hide in or bedroom and make some passionate –"

"You got it," Logan interrupted.

"We'll see." Danielle wanted to plan something out first. "Shouldn't you be monitoring the other kids?"

"No."

"I thought it was your turn?"

"Scott is doing that. Teachers only."

"I see. So, shifts in the dining room and the cafeteria is shut down for now?"

"Right."

Danielle shot a glance at Daken. He was content for the most part and did not need as much feeding as before, although he was always hungry and ate huge meals. Jean had offered to watch him for the rest of the afternoon while she taught her class and the food was ready in the refrigerator. However, the other three boys she checked on had their last three classes within the hour. Their lunchtime was supposed to be with her and Logan, the only time they would be able to have to themselves as a family. However, it would not hurt to sneak away with half an hour and spend the rest of the time with the boys.

"Devon, you mind watching your brothers?" Danielle felt her heart ripping through her chest. It was a huge leap of faith to trust Devon and this would be his big test to prove himself.

The oldest nodded his head, absorbed in his studies. He gazed at Daken at least once before diving back into his schoolwork. Michael and Riley, on the other hand, were curious about their youngest brother. They always had been. It was difficult to gauge their feelings concerning Daken, but from what Danielle deduced, they adored the baby. An extra set of eyes on the youngest troublemaker would not be a bad idea, although she suspected that the same ones would be seeking her and Logan out soon enough.

"Let's go," Logan urged, taking Danielle's arm and rushing her out the door. He wanted as much distance between them and the kids as they could get before one of them called for help. "We've got time."

"Maybe a few minutes," Danielle forecasted. It was chancy to predict it that long. It could be seconds!

"Better than nothing."

"Logan! Is it really that bad?"

"They're all brats, even ours."

"All of the children are ours, Logan. The one that is biologically belonging to us is indeed as needy as his father."

This stopped Logan. By the time the statement was uttered, they were on the second floor hallway, passing by students who were assigned the first lunch shift. His arm was still tangled with Danielle's, its grip harder than initially. Wordlessly, he pulled her into their bedroom, flinging her on the bed and slamming the door shut. He was so angry, Danielle noted, and was slowly becoming more than argumentative the more he stared at her.

"You know, being mad does no become you," Danielle said coolly. She learned from Vinnie Paul and Leon Ellis the meaning of abuse and would not tolerate it from Logan. Of all people, he should know better.

He said nothing. Glaring at her with dark, dark eyes, he felt blind rage consume him. He could not identify why the statement blew him out of proportion. In retrospect though, it was akin to poking a bear that needed to lick its wounds. She was condescending and snide. That could not be put up with.

In her mind, she thought and searched for a way to calm their fight. She did not want the whole school to hear of their problems since it was always fun to gossip about the negative. Scanning the immediate area, she found a few stragglers heading downstairs and considered them nothing close to the blather ring. Then, she got up from the bed and touched Logan's shoulder. Danielle guessed the reason why he was set off. It did not give him a reason to be horribly rude though.

"I know it's difficult," Danielle began kindly, "but we can't be at each other's throat. I understand that the boys are a handful. Trust me. It was hard for me to get used to Michael at first and he was with a nurse before Leon handed him back to me. I cannot begin to count the many times I lost my tolerance with him. It's going to take time, Logan. It always will. You accepted me. You've have to accept it all or leave."

It was always never fair to have someone make a choice like that. Danielle calculated that Logan would do one of two things. He would either storm off to work and return to finish the fight or he would work out the feeling inside of him somehow. She hoped it would be the latter, anxiously waiting for him to make his move. It seemed like hours ticked by them slowly before he decided. He shoved her on the bed, tugging at her pants and shirt.

Danielle grinned, playfully doing the same. _Bingo!_

~00~

One o'clock struck and ten students entered the music room within five minutes. All of them did seem a little embarrassed to be stuck in a class that was considered an elective (to the students) and less than optional (to Xavier). Danielle did not mind their feelings. Nobody exactly wanted to admit that they were taking a class not only with Leon Ellis' widow, but in something as boring as a science or math lecture.

 _Well, I'll prove them wrong. They'll take the next class the following year._

"Good afternoon," Danielle began as she handed out a copy of her rules and expectations. She cut to the heart of the matter next. "You might all be thinking that this has got to be the most tedious place to be, with all of these dirty instruments and a crazy teacher to boot. Already, I've got to be doing the same thing everyone else is, handing out papers and making you read and follow a bunch of rules. Well, this will surprise you. If you read between the lines on the one page I am handing out, I do not expect anything except respect and I want nothing less."

She soon finished and stood before her ten students, continuing. "Professor Xavier informed me to make a list of things I wanted out of you. As you can also see, I listed what I hope you would see from myself. Does anyone have anything they want to add?"

Shyly, all of them put their heads down. Noting this, Danielle placed herself near the chalkboard, taking out a new piece from a box and breaking it in half. She tossed one at a girl with flaming purple hair and another covered in spikes. She instructed them to answer the question on the board and to pass it to the next person. There were no exceptions and nobody was going to be skipped.

When ten items from her students were written, from understanding to empathy, Danielle was pleased. She wrote their suggestions on her master copy, adding that they should do the same since they were good answers, and told them to put it aside. She had another plan up her sleeve.

"As an ice breaker, let's talk about each other," she proposed. "As part of this exercise, I want all of you to give the rest of the class an idea of what you think defines music and what kind you like. If you have any form of media that can be listened to, I am willing to have it played."

Again, none of them seemed willing to do the assignment. So, Danielle chatted about herself to get through to them on their level. She told them truthfully about her powers, covered very little of her interests and life events, and admitted to being a wife and prisoner of Leon Ellis. She showed pictures of her four sons, adding that they would see them around the school, and that she hoped they would be kind to them.

The girl with the purple hair raised her hand. "What kind of music do you like, Ms. Mitchell?"

"All kinds," Danielle admitted cheerfully. "I grew up on classic rock and pop hits of the eighties, some classical and even jazz from my grandfather's vinyl collection. I expanded my taste from those base introductions. Whatever was released, I had to check it out and was able to give a critical opinion about."

"Do you write any?"

"I have put away from poetry I've jotted down over the years."

"Can we see it?"

Danielle had to consider it. "I'll bring in something tomorrow if you're all here."

The students transformed into an interested audience and had opened up to their instructor. By two o'clock, the bell rang for the next class. By then, all ten students were so engrossed in conversing that they did not hear it. Danielle had to shoo them away so that the next set could enter. None of them wanted to leave. They even warned the three that came in that they were in for a treat.

This one was a smaller group, Danielle lamented, but they were easier to handle. She had no problems getting them to talk, write on the board or even ask questions. By three o'clock, the bell rang again and she had to rush off for a meeting, not allowing her second class to carry on like the first. Xavier had requested an end-of-day panel to discuss what had happened, improvements and to gauge their students.

Danielle arrived at the designated teachers' lounge with Jean and Scott, the latter carrying a sleeping Daken in a car seat. The Professor, Ororo, Fiona, Jubilee and even Mae and Roger were already seated, conversing about their respective days. As Danielle took the baby, the conference began and ended rather quickly, less than ten minutes. Basically, everyone had a great day and had nothing but positive things to say.

Tired, Danielle retreated back upstairs with Daken. She had until five to feed him and then another half hour before the other boys needed dinner. Checking in on the trio in their shared room, she left Devon in charge for the second time and decided that a walk would be perfect. Strapping her youngest against her chest, she exited the mansion and headed to the woods, where she saw Logan sitting on the log.

Their earlier argument had been forgotten. For now, Danielle felt that the best feeling she had was being with her family. Inching closer to Logan, she sat down as his eyes studied the town, wrapping an arm around him and curling closer to him, Daken between them. He said and did nothing, continuing his observance of Salem Center. He knew they were there, Danielle sensed. He just chose to leave the moment in silence.

And that was fine with her. From their mutual attraction over twelve years before to their whirlwind romance from afar and the long detachment, it was an intense journey from the day Ellis arrived to this was one. It was one that Danielle could not forget as well. She could not believe her luck, that after so long they still loved each other and had come to raise a family, but that was all a part of life. One day, you're high on the wheel of fortune, and the next, scrapping the bottom of the barrel to get back up.

Right now, life had yet to show them that anything was going to change their prosperity. It was perfect…and that was all that mattered.


	69. Nothingness is Dead

**June 8, 2023**

The clock on the far wall ticked slowly, the bell ready to indicate the end of the session. The classroom remained as quiet and as tense as ever. After all, it was finals' week. They were ahead of schedule, but it was decided by Xavier that he wanted to end the school year now despite their previous setbacks. He felt that everyone was ready and willing and would exceed even his expectations.

Danielle sat at her desk quite bored, the sun slipping through the windows and blinding her as she yawned. She put a hand to her forehead, similar to surveying an area in the hot light, and studied her students. Most of them were finished and had put their devices facedown so that she knew they were confident in their responses. Others were still anxiously typing away and choosing answers or were waiting for their instrumental test. Luckily for all of them, she had about ten minutes before the written exam was called off and an hour more before those playing for her would be given a final grade.

It was a daunting task. After a relaxing weekend spending time with her family and thinking about Jay, she was tired, made more so by showing Logan more memories and then stopping at another turning point in their lives. Her birthday four days ago was celebrated too. Forty-four years old and still believing in her own mortality, she smiled and nodded throughout the whole day, allowing her children (even Celeste, Riley's girlfriend and Michael's boyfriend) to pamper her and make her comfortable. Logan even sat with her, holding her hand on occasion when the children were not looking and kissing her a few times.

Afterward, they had to get back to business. With Fiona and Jax gone, it was easy to pack up and drive back to the mansion. Danielle and Logan herded Celeste and Daken into the vehicle and were off, leaving the four so-called adults behind to mind the house. Devon had yet to arrive and had telephoned the house number before their departure. He stated that he would arrive by Friday.

Something kept bothering Danielle though. Their theory on a rift in the timelines was a plausible one, yes, but there was still that other entity shifting deeper inside of her that defined her recent days. She recognized it as death and had welcomed the being more and more. There was a certain darkness within that slumber that it was so tempting to take a hold of it. Danielle stopped herself more than once from grasping it. She did not want to fall victim to what her mother had and remain alive for her children. They needed her.

And there was always Logan. What was he going to do if she was dead? He was as lost as he's ever been even though he attempted to bond to her. He identified himself in more ways than one during the last time they discussed their mutual past. However, he had to shift through it and make sense of the big picture. He still did not understand how and why things happened the way they did. Danielle was hardly done with the story anyway, although her mind begged her to end it. She wished with all of her heart that Logan would still survive in this world without the happy ending he sought.

 _Wait, wait, wait. I am getting ahead of myself._

Shaking her head free of any negative thoughts, Danielle smiled at her students. When the bell finally rang, she collected everyone's tests and retained the rest of the group who had been waiting for her ear. Another hour of listening to music being played by the last of her pupils was a distraction at least, but it hardly took her mind off of the problem. She found no issues with their presentations when before she would have found the smallest note out of place and dismissed them without giving a final decision on their grades.

Distracted, Danielle bagged all of the tests and evaluations and exited her classroom. She locked it behind her, slinging her pack over her shoulder and heading upstairs. She passed Hank on the way up, giving him a halfhearted wave when he exclaimed that the last days of instruction had arrived. He seemed more excited than she was about the end of the school year and even kept his cool better than previous terms, holding back on swinging on the ceiling fixtures like he used to. She also sensed that he was willing to forsake all of the paperwork he needed to sign in order to spend time with his wife and children.

Finally, her sanctuary was before her. She unlocked the bedroom door and closed it behind her, laying the tests on her bed for correction. When she sat down and reached for one, the joints in her hands suddenly locked up and screamed in pain, causing her to drop the item. Luckily, it landed on a blanket on her bed and not the floor. Danielle did not want to test how durable these computers were and cursed her clumsiness.

It took some time before she was able to input the password and see the test. Danielle's fingers would not work and kept losing their grip with the sharp aching, shaking violently. Frustrated, she put everything back in her bag and remained seated on the mattress. She wasn't expecting any of the children for another two hours and Logan was busy with his own classes. While Xavier had been able to assist him with making up the tests, Logan was still taking his sweet time. She would be alone for a while.

A thought possessed the former assassin. If Roger was getting older and slowing down, then it was possible that she was too. Usually, it involved small things and abrupt changes that progress to something more serious. Danielle was not immune to disease. Although she chose to remain eternal, she still could become ill, but heal quicker than most people can. Jean or Mae could answer her questions about it.

She decided to pay a quick visit to the infirmary. Jean had finished the day's finals early this morning and Mae was not going to be there to poke at her. Danielle found it relaxing not to have her former sister-in-law and her mother's friend lecture her. It had been years since Mae watched out for Danielle. However, there were always times she would treat her as a child and berate her for her behavior.

 _Now Mae has five more kids she watches out for, not me. Goddammit, what I would do to have my mother back…_

Even though Danielle did not have much parental guidance during her childhood, she still missed her mother. For years, she had blamed Shannon for everything, even killing herself while a national audience viewed, and wished that she had been a better parent to her and had advice. Nowadays, Danielle only wished that Shannon had a sage word for her. Even though the depressed woman would have hidden in her darkened room for days, there might have been some elderly wisdom on those lips that turned blue and purple upon her demise.

Danielle left her room and roamed the usual corridors to her destination. She actually bumped into Jean on her way downstairs in the elevator. The latter had been heading out, her hands full of boxes of old equipment that had yet to be cleared out. Jean steadied them though, her eyes peeking over to one side to see her friend. She noticed that Danielle needed to talk and opted out of completing her task. Instead, she pushed the button to close the doors and waited with her to reach the bottom floor. When they reached the safety and privacy of the medical bay, they closeted themselves in Jean's office.

Jean put her load down on a side table. "What is it, Danielle?" She sighed.

"I don't quite know." Danielle wring her slightly wrinkled hands. "One moment, I'm fine, but the next, I can't think straight. I can't concentrate on correcting my finals. I can't even hold them in my hands."

"There's been a lot on your mind lately."

"Over two weeks of glossing over a lifetime isn't a lot."

"Not if you're using as much power as you are and your anchor is dying."

"You told me Jay was just in a coma and –"

Jean reached over and put her hands on Danielle's shoulders to calm her. "I told you he was," she said. "I also stated that he was dying, Danielle. Don't you remember?"

The blank stare that Jean received was confirmation enough. She guided Danielle to a chair and made her sit, releasing her from her grip. In the time that she made contact, she noticed an undertone of desperation and despair deep inside of Danielle's consciousness. Underneath that was an unknown presence. Jean could not figure out what it was, but if she had to take a guess, it was a darkness that consumes each person when their time comes, the same that she sensed in Jay when he was dragged into the infirmary by Fiona and Jax all those days ago.

 _Death._

Jean did not want to talk about the most obvious thing in blunt terms. She wanted to keep Danielle as strong and calm as she could without raising any red flags. The former assassin was not stupid. Danielle could read in-between the lines to get the whole picture if her emotions did not get the best of her. However, Jean was not sure how far gone Danielle was. As the days progressed and she pushed herself more and more, her strength waned and her powers flared out somewhere that Jean could not find. It was linked to a place she herself could not reach. Each time she did, she received the same feeling that Jay faced.

"I am sure we can figure something out," Jean reassured Danielle, hiding behind her own shield. "Jay may have control over his own death, but he has yet to find a way out of his coma."

"Maybe he's thinking that there's no way out?" Danielle's voice was so small, akin to a child's scared plea to be saved.

"It's possible," Jean admitted. She knew that it was not the case though. "We need to wait and see. Now, you came to see me specifically. What's wrong?"

"Feeling my age, I guess," Danielle replied. She stopped roping her hands around each other and held them up briefly. "I couldn't check my tests and I kept…well, dropping them…I mean…I wanted to hold them…"

Jean kneeled before Danielle and wrapped her arms around her. "I understand. I think the stress is getting to you. I suggest maybe taking a walk. Break from the new routine. Didn't you have an idea for a book?"

That was how the rumor went anyway. Danielle had been writing and posting articles for several years now, most of them anonymous, and she had been receiving flak from it ever since. Even though most people could not trace it back to her (nor remember who Regina Raine was), it was easy to assume that she was pretty good at what she did and was pretty damned ambitious about it. Danielle had ideas for books for a long time and even toyed with the prospect of writing one. Mentioning it once or twice in the cafeteria passively always fueled the gossip too.

"I _did_ ," Danielle gushed out, "but my research had been curtailed by many things. I still have material to return to the library. I didn't find what I was looking for, but I have some clues and leads."

"On what?"

"The origins of _us_ …the true beginning of our species and what it means when evolution takes a flying leap into the unknown. There's a multi-volume history that can be written on that alone."

"It's very…well, it's time consuming, I'd say."

"And there's so much we don't understand and should." A light flashed in Danielle's eyes, extinguished as quickly as her feelings deflated. "I have yet to pass the idea to the Professor. He too had been studying this topic for several decades. I am sure he's love to add to the series."

"It'll be a great project for the summer," Jean observed, trying to be positive. "Why don't you go to the library? It would take your mind off of some things."

Danielle nodded like a robot. "I agree. Butchering my students' exams can wait another day. The grades aren't supposed to be in until next Monday anyway."

Gracefully, Danielle stood up and departed. Jean watched from the doorway as the younger sibling gingerly trekked past the rows of beds and found Jay's. He had been moved to a more private corner so that his family could be with him alone and no students would crowd the area. Danielle sat down in a chair nearby him, made less comforting by the position it was in, and reached over, touching everything her brother's hands had held. So many tubes and lines ran through Jay to keep him alive that nobody would ever be make contact with him directly.

 _Remember me, remember us…_

The words echoed through her head again, reminding her of so many words said and activities done. She recalled saying them to Jay concerning Logan when the whole episode began, when he snuck into her room and drank with her. He agreed to be a part of the solution to this problem, to ensure that the family did not have to dive into scandal for the millionth instance. He understood above all that Logan was precious to her and a part of her life and that the two ran hand-in-glove from the beginning. He didn't care about the risks. He wanted to make his sister happy.

Fiona had left a radio nearby, possibly to play some music for Jay when she was around. Danielle reached for it and played with the dial, the globe figure illuminated above the player showing the station, song title and artist. When an old song reached her ears, she left it on, getting up to leave for her trip out.

 _She said, it's cold…  
It's feels like Independence Day,  
And I can't break  
Away from this parade.  
But there's got to be an opening,  
Somewhere here in front of me,  
Through this maze of ugliness and greed._

 _And I see the sun up ahead  
At the county line bridge,  
Sayin' all there's good  
And nothingness is dead.  
We'll run until she's out of breath.  
She ran until there's nothing left.  
She hit the end,  
It's just her window ledge._

 _Hey, come on try a little.  
Nothing is forever.  
There's got to be something  
Better than in the middle.  
But me and Cinderella,  
We put it all together.  
We can drive it home  
With one headlight…_

Jean did not follow her, which Danielle considered a saving grace. She discounted her explanation of stress though. The former assassin and mother knew when she was anxious and this was not an instance. Still, the lame excuse satisfied her for the moment. It paved a way for her to go to the library to be alone. Her children were busy with their tests and would be studying with friends. Danielle trusted them to do the right thing, even if it was like herding cats to get them to, and to keep up their grades.

Daken ran into Danielle on her way to her bedroom, stating that he and Celeste were going to be in the study hall session in the cafeteria with Hank and the Professor before dinner. Danielle consented to the arrangement, thanking her youngest son mentally for being so mature and serious about his work, and informed him of her current arrangements. Daken was taken aback a little, which surprised Danielle. It was obvious he did not like the prospect of his mother leaving.

"You look really sick, Mom," Daken mentioned, another shocker. He never made comments like that. "Are you sure you can make it? I can have Dad drive you."

"I am quite certain," the mother answered confidentially. "Go on. Take advantage of the opportunities you have. I know you can do it."

Daken was hesitant to leave her. The expressions on his face told her many things, most of them over what he could do. It was the most Logan feature Danielle had ever seen out of her son with her second husband. His hand even went through his dark hair like his father, slicking it back slightly before it popped back up. He was nervous, a trait that he never showed to anyone, and that worried Danielle.

Indeed, he eventually shrugged his shoulders, unsure of what else to do. "Ok, Mom. See you later then."

Danielle smiled, waving Daken away. When she was sure that he was out of sight, she grabbed the books she needed to return and some backpack to carry them in. Readied, she started the long walk into town and to the quietness of the municipal building. She did not run into anyone else save for Scott and that was a godsend. She did not want the attention, especially after dealing with Daken, and only yelled a farewell to the Summers brother.

Passing through the quaint back roads before stepping into the busy streets of Salem Center actually made things worse. Suddenly, as Danielle traveled, her mind raced and pounded like a drum. Her heart beat neck-in-neck, slowly at first and then rapider and harder. She had to stop herself, leaning against the metal fence that surrounded town hall. Breathing heavily, she waited until it passed and moved on.

At the last intersection before the library, the symptoms started again. Danielle rested her head against a telephone pole, feeling reality slip from her. One moment, she was in Salem Center and another in a dark room illuminated by stained-glass windows and torches. Then, it all meshed into a watercolor painting, oozing into a dream that pulled at her and took her away into its upcoming darkness.

The last she recalled was screaming for help, begging someone to spare her young children…

* * *

 **Following lyrics are from the Wallflowers song, "One Headlight".**


	70. Of Life and Death

Kitty sat in the teachers' lounge, dozing off. Her head rested on the cold table, her students' exams scattered all over the hard surface. She woke up after a few minutes, panting anxiously and with drool running down her face. She wiped it away hurriedly, gathering up the mini computers and piling them in order to correct them so that nobody questioned her work ethic. However, her mind was not in it. It went back to a dream she had, the same that she witnessed for some nights, except with the horrible twist of seeing Rogue take over her important position.

" _Where's Bobby?"_

" _I'm so sorry, Kitty…"_

This time… _this time_ , it was disturbing to think of the dead. She replayed it in her mind for clarity. Brighter details came through so sharply that the horror still made her shiver. The feeling that she was constantly falling – one that she did not have since she was a child – enveloped her strongly. She even felt it now, attempting to remain in her seat before she dropped through the floor. Once she regained control of her powers, she gathered all of her things and left the lounge. Now, she wasn't going to lie and hide things, pretending nothing was wrong. She was going to seek out Danielle and Logan.

First, Kitty checked the music room. She found the hallway deserted and the doors locked. She knocked, hoping that maybe Danielle was in there and choosing to keep to herself, and waited the few customary minutes before brushing her knuckles against the wood again. When no answer was given and she stuck her head in to check (seeing nothing), she retreated back to the main corridor and back upstairs. On her way, she dropped off the exams with Colossus, yelling that she had some important things to do. He was about to reply, but was cut off when a bell rang.

Next, she rushed off to the bedroom that Danielle and Logan shared. Once more, there was no response and the room was deserted. She checked the kids' rooms and received the same scene, believing that they might have gone to the cafeteria with Hank and Xavier. Defeated, Kitty wished that she had the ability to check her surroundings and locate where people were. She slid down against Celeste's door, putting her head into her hands as it ached with the implications.

If she had told the truth in the first place, then maybe this would not have happened. Jay Mitchell was in a coma and possibly dying and his wife and son were in shambles. Danielle went missing and disappeared without a trace. Logan was in his classroom maybe. The kids were focused elsewhere…

 _Wait, wait, wait!_

Logan might still be in his classroom. She would be disturbing his finals, but there was a chance that he knew where Danielle was. They could talk this time rift theory over and perhaps go to the Professor for a solution. Logan would be furious that Kitty lied in the first place, but the urgency and the reality of the dream and what it might mean was more important. The trivial matter of dealing with Logan's animalistic rage can be saved for later. She only hoped that not only was it not too late and that she would not be impaled against a wall.

Energized, Kitty dove in the opposite direction and ran. She jogged down the stairs, passing a few other teachers that questioned her urgent hastening, and found Logan's classroom. The door was open, allowing her to enter. She pretended that it was an important issue that she needed to discuss with him that didn't involve his wife. Kitty passed by the hush of younger children bored with history. Almost every one of them was tapping their computers in an impatient way, pretending that this was the best class they ever had.

Logan noted Kitty's entry and frowned. He had been leaning back in his chair, the end held up by the wall behind him, and was just washed up in excitement seeing his kids so upset. When Kitty whispered in his ear that she desperately needed to talk to him, Logan waved her away in dismissal. He scowled. It wasn't a good time to interpose, she noticed, most likely because he might have had to discipline a few in his class. It would explain a few things.

"This might be life or death," Kitty added softly, wishing it would hit home with him.

Logan pointed to the corridor. Pursing her lips in a thin line, Kitty obeyed, expecting to be berated for troubling him at another time. However, when Logan followed her out, he stopped her, swinging her around to face him. He was not pleased, but he was willing to listen.

"What?" If Logan wasn't going to cause a scene, Kitty was sure he would have barked the question. He was pissed enough as it was.

"You're right," Kitty gushed out in a panic. "I keep having these dreams…darkness, anarchy and robots that wanted to kill us. They tracked us down to do it…and…"

" _Quiet_." The order from Logan was so cold that Kitty wanted to crawl inside of her skin and hide. His anger was white hot and he was willing to strike on one wrong move. "I have five minutes. Meet me in the Professor's office."

She nodded and obeyed. It was the most private place to talk and Xavier never minded anyone using it, just as long as he knew and approved and nobody left a mess. Waiting those few minutes was torture though. It seemed like forever before Logan came after her, closing the oak door behind him. His demeanor had not changed. Indeed, he was more cross than he was previously and let it be known by his silence.

"Look, I didn't want to believe it either," Kitty started defensively. "I thought it was a nightmare. You admitting to being some sort of time traveler is far-fetched to begin with."

Still, Logan said nothing. He crossed his arms. That was not a good sign to Kitty.

"Where's Danielle?" she asked instead.

Logan was very hostile. "Why do you need to know?"

"Maybe she would have some answers. Logan, this is pretty important and I would not be here if it wasn't. I'll be the first to say that I was wrong. I didn't want this to be a problem and thought it would go away. I believed it was something as trivial and that you all were playing a game."

"This is no game."

"It doesn't give me the whereabouts of your wife. _Where_ … _is_ … _she_?"

"Music room. If not, try the bedroom."

"She's not in either. I checked."

"Cafeteria?"

"I haven't gone there yet."

Kitty wanted to spring into action. If their working theory was actually reality, then they were going to need all of the people they could to fix it. Logan would not budge though. He physically blocked her way.

"Get out of my way," Kitty ordered sharply. "Let me out!"

"If you already lied, what makes you think I can trust you again?" A fair query from Logan, but there was no time or energy to answer it.

"Details we can figure out later," Kitty argued. Frustrated, she rushed right through him and the door and scampered. She didn't wait for Logan to come after her and only ran.

From that point, she felt that Logan was a subtraction from the equation and did not add to the solution. Dismissing him, she allowed herself to drop through the floor at the end of the hallway, landing in the basement level in an office, on top of an old filing cabinet. Kitty knew where she was. Xavier always kept some rooms closed off and used for storage. She wouldn't have a problem getting through to the cafeteria.

It only took a minute. Kitty exited from a random room into the drafty passages before the lunchroom, walking as normally as she could and entering the same way as well. From there, she scanned around the heads of students and found Hank. He was sitting in a corner thinking of something as his head buried itself in a screen. He didn't appear to be bored, just amused about something he was reading.

Kitty approached him. "Hank, have you seen Danielle?"

"Did you ask Logan?" Hank did not look up from his computer. "Check their bedroom? Find the kids?"

"I did all of that except finding Daken and Celeste. I would have thought you astute enough to figure that out."

"I see."

"Do you know where she could be?"

"Her usual haunts include Teller's bar, the creek and around the mansion. She might be talking with Jean or Storm or both. Mae might have tagged her for some off reason. If she's not with family or friends, then she's out on her own. I don't know how much more I can help you."

"Who else would know?"

Hank glanced up. "The people I mentioned. Kitty, if this of an urgent nature, I can have Charles call her or we can use the intercom system."

"No, that won't be necessary." Although Kitty thought it a good idea to involve Xavier, she did not think now was the right time. He would be the last resort. "We'll find her. Thank you!"

Although Hank was more than curious about the inquiry, Kitty did not want to give him more information than what was needed. Distraught, she left, heading towards the medical bay instead. Mae was there, but not Jean. The master spy's wife had not seen Danielle all day and offered to call her colleague, who was busy clearing out some old equipment. Kitty declined the offer and decided to walk all of the floors again. From the Danger Room and all the way around, her target was not to be found and nobody had a clue. When she ran into Logan in the elevator on her way up, he growled.

"Find her?" She doubted it, but it was worth a shot.

"She left," Logan responded.

"You mean, she's not on the grounds?" Kitty was confused.

"Yeah. Her trail heads straight out into town."

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

"Anyone who has an exact idea where she is. I assume you've been around the block a few times."

"Just Hank and Mae, but I ran through this level and bothered everyone else. Maybe Jean knows? I haven't questioned her."

Logan nodded. In silence, the pair rode to the main floor and split up. He did not care where Kitty went, just as long as she was out of his hair. Logan had a feeling that Kitty didn't tell the truth to begin with. Danielle knew as much too. In any case, her sudden want of seeing and talking with his wife was unnerving. With Danielle not around the mansion and not telling anyone about it, the situation was strange. It was worth continuing the investigation.

It didn't take long to find Jean either. She had been coming back in from filling the dumpster in the back. Sighing and wiping her forehead free of sweat, she leaned against a side table by the stairwell. She saw Logan and smiled in a friendly way. She motioned him to come forward.

"From what the rumor mill stated, you've been looking for your wife," she started.

It was suspicious to hear that from someone familiar, especially from Jean. Logan was cautious. "Yes."

"She decided to take a walk," Jean explained. "I suggested she go to the library to relax."

This alarmed Logan more than he realized. He let out a deep breath and met Jean's eyes. "Something is wrong."

"Yes," she conceded, "and I thought it would be best if Danielle got out of here. She's so stressed, Logan. Treks into town calm her."

"I don't think this would. Did she head in her usual direction? Take the same route?"

"Assuming that she listened to me, then yes, she might have. I have no idea. I tried communicating with her after she left, but…"

"But _what_?"

"She's not there. I can't reach her."

"Did you tell anyone else?"

"I alerted the Professor. He's well on his way to locating Danielle."

There was no time to lose then. Shocked, Logan sprinted away, ignoring Jean's protests to wait. He followed the acquainted pathway down to the garage, picking any motorcycle that he could grab and starting it up with his claws. Revving up the engine, he drove off, luckily just missing the doors as they opened. The gate was cleared, allowing the emotional flood to rush forward and into Salem Center.

Logan did not know how he was feeling. His mind raced to guess where Danielle could be. He took Jean's proposal and followed the usual way to the library. He did not see her though, pulling over in a lot near the green. He parked the bike, scanning around him. The scent was stronger here and led down the sidewalk towards the edge of town, where the roads led to Yonkers…and in the direction of the desired literacy center.

Following it, Logan heard loud whispers from passersby and then heard the sirens. The red lights of the ambulance flashed in his face, heading where he was. A little faster, he raced forward, seeing a group of people circle around something at the intersection. When he heard that it was Mrs. Ellis, he broke into a faster run, demanding that everyone, including the medical personnel tending to his wife, make way for the husband. Reaching Danielle's side, he kneeled, scooping her into his arms before anyone could hook her to a life support system.

It was obvious that Danielle labored breathing was slowing down, becoming light as a feather. She was dying.

* * *

 **DUN! DUN! DUN!**

 **Yep. This is the end of the story...but not the series. Not yet anyway. I did not expect it to end this way (I thought this would be the last), but apparently, my mind took a HUGE leap and decided to run with the time rift theory and to continue exploring it. If I thought ending it at story 4 was a problem, ending it here was bigger.**

 **I have too many people to thank for this story. You all know who you are. Most of all though, I want to thank all of the silent readers. While no reviews have typically generated, I am still grateful for all of the traffic. In the 9 months that it took me to finish this up (and trust me, it was tough), I had been through a lot of things that would have made me quit many things. Depression hit badly and I felt there was nothing going to be time to finish it up. However, like most, I have made it and this is the result.**

 **The next story will be up soon. I have the 1st chapter started and am hoping to post it this weekend. I hope you all stayed tuned and let me know what you think. If not, I can be content with traffic. MUAH!**


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